North and South - Revelations from Le Havre and Helstone
by fis
Summary: What if Thornton's visit to Le Havre and Helstone revealed more than he'd bargained for. An AU story based on the timeline from the book before Hale died, with events from TV miniseries all in the mix
1. Chapter 1 - The Man from Andalusia

A short fan fiction. A/U- Events from the book and TV miniseries all in the mix.

 _What if Thornton's visit to Le Havre and Helstone revealed more than he'd bargained for?_ Book based with series overtones.

I also want give a big thanks to Asian-Inkwell, my BETA for the prompt responses and thorough scrutiny on this meagre effort of this timeless love story we all adore.

….

Chapter One – The Man from Andalucía

Le Havre, France

John Thornton had only ever used his fists against one man in his life, a worker in his mill named Stephens who had lit up a cigarette and endangered the lives of two hundred people. Unfortunately, he did so in the presence of Margaret Hale, and she hated him from that moment on and he has paid dearly for that, with his heart. For that reason, he made two vows to himself. The first was never to use his fists against another human again. Little did he know he would soon have to sit on his own hands to stop himself from breaking that vow in the face of the man that would be sitting across the table from him…the merchant from Andalucía, an unprincipled, dishonest and unscrupulous merchant from Andalucía.

…

"He should be here any moment now," Giles Arnaud had said to Thornton. "He is a pleasant enough fellow and I think you will like him. He is an Englishman, but he has lived in Spain for a few years now."

"I will trade with anyone who is principled and honest. He doesn't have to be English. Let's just hope he keeps to time," Thornton replied reaching for his pocket watch.

Thornton met Arnauld on his trip to Le Havre to seek investment for the mill. He was an agent for a shipping company that exported goods to the Indies and had been in his job for two years. Unfortunately, the deal fell through, and Arnauld was determined to make up for the disappointment by seeking other options.

"Barbour and Company import a finer grade of cotton from the South Americas, and I hear it weaves like silk and takes fabric dye better than the ones from Charleston and Georgia," he said to reassure Thornton. "He did promise to be here, but with the roads in this winter, it is possible he may delay another day or two. I think you will find it worth your while to meet him, for I believe it will revive your fortunes."

"I leave in the morning, I have to get back to Milton as soon as possible," Thornton said. He did not wish to intimate to Arnaud that the abortive trip had cost him so much already, and he did not have the resources to extend his stay.

A well-dressed young gentleman in a fashionable Panama hat with a cloak approached their table at the time. "Here he comes," Arnaud whispered to him. The approaching man stopped in front of them and both Arnauld and Thornton rose.

"Thornton, may I introduce Mr. Frederick Dickenson, manager from Barbour and Company in Cadiz, Andalucía. Dickenson, meet John Thornton, manufacturer and magistrate from …... I beg your pardon….Meel..? _comme si il dit_ …how do you say?…." Arnaud said, struggling to remember the name of Thornton's town.

"Milton, Darkshire," Thornton murmured irritably, and both men shook hands.

"I come from Hampshire myself, from a little hamlet called Helstone, only known to those fortunate to be given a smidgen of paradise on earth," Dickenson said.

"I have heard of Helstone before, from friends of mine, but I have never been there," Thornton said. "I hear it is beautiful. I might just pay a visit there on my way home."

"Imagine that. How extraordinary that I meet someone who has friends from Helstone, but I must confess that I'm very much a Spaniard now," Dickenson said nervously and hoping to change the focus from his childhood hometown. "I daresay it is a relief to…dabble with a fellow Englishman for a change."

"I would not know how to…dabble," Thornton retorted, annoyed at the memory of the same turn of phrase from Henry Lennox at the Exhibition, for that jogged a memory, a decidedly unpleasant memory. He saw it in his mind's eye, vividly, of a face, this very face before him in Outwood Station three months ago, late one night in a tender embrace with Margaret Hale, the sole object of his affection.

The conversation went on for several minutes, with Arnauld trying so hard to convince both sides on the merits of a partnership, and getting frustrated at Thornton's reticence to try to impress Dickenson.

"Do you not wish to save your mill?" Arnauld asked Thornton the moment Dickenson left them to refresh himself. "You look as though you could kill the man. Might I remind you that you need this investment?"

"How well do you know Dickenson?" Thornton asked.

"He lived in Argentina for several years and came to Spain about two years ago. I know he has a very good reputation in business, and he recently got married to Barbour's only child and is set to inherit the company," Arnauld said. "I think he must love his wife for he became a Roman Catholic just to marry her."

"Married, to an heiress… and a convert as well. Interesting," Thornton said; _how mercenary_ , he wanted to say. As far as Thornton was concerned, Dickenson was neither principled, honest, nor a gentleman, English or Spanish, and was the last person on earth he would wish to trade with even to save his livelihood and mill.

Dickenson returned to resume business talks, but Thornton found he could only nod and mutter some barely incomprehensible syllables every now and then, and when he needed to respond, he mechanically repeated the same well rehearsed business phrases that he found himself saying to the several potential investors over the past month, phrases that had failed to yield any success but were the only ones he could say without sounding like a fool.

"Perhaps Dickenson may wish to stay behind for a few drinks and reminisce about England," Thornton suggested as the discussion drifted to a close. "Good idea," Dickenson agreed and Arnauld obliged and left them in the hotel lounge.

Thornton could not believe that Margaret had been tricked into an understanding with a complete rake, a married man, Roman Catholic, who would never divorce his wife. "I gather that congratulations are in order, and that you are lately married," he said. "What did Mrs. Dickenson think of England?"

"Senora Barbour you mean. Spanish women do not take up their husband's names; but no, she hasn't yet been to England," Dickenson replied.

"Ah….so she did not accompany you on your last visit then?" Thornton said.

"My last visit? I don't understand what you mean," he replied

"Let us not beat about the bush. I know who you are," Thornton said without preamble.

"I cannot imagine how," Dickenson replied.

"Does the name 'Hale' mean anything to you?" Thornton said.

Frederick Dickenson's (alias Frederick Hale) heart dropped to the pit of his stomach, but he raised his chin defiantly and replied, "no, it does not." His heart began to beat wildly, and all he could think was that the Navy had finally caught up with him, and this Englishman had been used to lure him out. His running days had come to end, and a chilling image of the hangman's noose flashed across his mind.

"You came to Milton a few weeks ago, and caused some trouble at the train station. That man you fought with later died in the Infirmary," Thornton insisted.

"I was not there… I was not there," Dickenson said vehemently. "…I was….not," and as he said so, he remembered the terrifying scowl of Mr. Thornton, a tradesman, magistrate and student of his father's who was not allowed in to the house whilst he was there, and who went past when Margaret had seen him off at Outwood Station, minutes before he was accosted by Leonards, the good-for-nothing fiance of his mother's housemaid, called Betsy.

Dickenson had to think fast. He was not armed, but with his military training, he perhaps stood a chance to overpower this big man before him and make his escape; but he would then have to abandon his new life with the Barbours, his new wife, Delores, and probably never get to see his child that was expected in the coming spring.

"Did Miss Hale not tell you she was compelled to lie to the investigating police officer….to cover up your crime?" Thornton continued.

"You mistake me for someone else," Dickenson said. "I come from Hampshire, and I left the shores of England almost a decade ago."

"Yes, Helstone, where the Hales lived," Thornton said mustering up all restraint possible from throwing a punch in this man's face.

"Not Helstone…I meant to say Ha-il-stone. It must be my Spanish accent," Dickenson said drawing out his vowels in a bid to conjure up an intonation.

Thornton hoped Dickenson was not yet lovers with her, nevertheless, as a chaste but pragmatic man, he knew that even if the unthinkable had occurred, he would still love her and marry her in a heartbeat. No one could ever spoil Margaret Hale for him, and that was a fact, and the universe knew it.

Oh yes, the second vow that he made on the day he beat Stephens in the mill, was that he would only ever make love to that one woman who had awakened sensations that had lain dormant all his adult life, and he was content to hope that one day that dream will come true. Sitting in front of a man who had probably kissed her and heavens forbid done more to her… with her, he was in danger of breaking the first vow, but more resolute in keeping the second.

"So you insist you were not in Milton, on the night of the twenty-sixth of September?" Thornton said, his voice steadily rising in volume. He could sense the hostility in Dickenson's eyes and realised the futility of getting this man to admit the truth.

Dickenson shook his head but mustered up all the genteel upbringing of an Englishman and stated calmly and clearly, "from one gentleman to the other, I told you I was not there and I do not know anyone by the name 'Hale', and I take offence at your insinuation." Fred did not wish to attract attention from the other guests at the restaurant. As they were in a coastal town frequented by the French Navy, if they were to be apprehended and his identity was questioned, the French might mistake him for an English spy, and he may just as well meet with the same fate on both sides of the Channel.

"I humble myself. My passions got the better of me. My ship sails first thing in the morning, and I have to catch some sleep. Excuse me for taking your time. Good night," Thornton said and rose abruptly and clasped his hands till his knuckles turned white and then walked away without as much as a backwards glance.

Dickenson watched Thornton depart and began to wonder if the man really knew who and what he was. He decided not to panic but check into another hotel in Le Havre that night, but not check out of his current one in case Thornton had alerted the authorities.

In the space of three months, he had had two close brushes with capture, and he was not about to let his guard down in future. He was particularly bothered that Margaret had not told him of an investigation with the police. His Aunt Shaw and Cousin Edith Lennox were not even aware of his whereabouts, and he had been careful in his dealings with Edith's brother-in-law and renowned barrister, Henry Lennox so as not to jeopardize his cover.

Nevertheless, he had an obligation to protect his only sister and his father as well. He sat up in his hotel room all night and wrote a letter to Lennox to inquire about this police matter involving Margaret and waited for the morning. He then crept to the docks in disguise to see Thornton board the ship back to England. He left the region at once and took a circuitous route back to Cadiz.

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	2. Chapter 2 - The Draper from Helstone

Chapter Two – The draper from Helstone

Helstone, Hampshire

"Ah…..the famous yellow roses of Helstone…" said one elderly gentleman to Thornton as he sat on a dusty train station bench in Helstone. "Legend calls them the rose of true friendship. I thought they were all gone, cut back by the vicar's wife, but you seemed to have found one."

"I found it in the hedgerow. You have to look hard," Thornton looked up and replied, but sighed inwardly at this person who had come to disturb his peace. He swiftly tucked the rose away in his breast pocket and looked down the tracks to see if the train would approach soon.

"You are not from these parts…" the gentleman said, but it was more like a question. "I beg your pardon. I'm James Paxman, the local draper. We don't get many visitors around here." The man took a seat next to him and looked as if he was waiting for a response.

"I'm off to Ringwood, west bound," Paxman continued, pointing in the direction with his forefinger.

"Winchester, east bound," Thornton replied thumbing in the opposite direction and inwardly grinning that he was travelling away from this nosy man's company

"Let me guess," Paxman said, trying to place the accent, "from Birmingham, or is it Liverpool?"

"Milton, Darkshire actually," Thornton replied, not expecting any recognition of the place from the likes of a draper from a parochial hamlet.

Paxman proved him wrong. "Helstone is a bit of trek from Milton. Two hundred and thirty miles of good road at the very least I'm sure. We've had quite a number of people leave for Milton. Farmer Dobson's brother works in the mills."

"I own one of the mills in Milton. We manufacture cotton," Thornton replied. "I know most of my ha..…workers, but the name Dobson doesn't ring a bell."

"My fellow draper's son also left to work on the railways. God knows whatever became of him, George Leonards' boy," Paxman continued

"Leonards' boy?" Thornton said, almost too loudly. "Did you say Leonards?"

"You do know him? It would not surprise me if he's been in any trouble," Paxman said. "He was an unpleasant fellow… gave his father a lot of grief."

"No, I cannot say I know him, but I am a magistrate, and a case with a similar name came before my bench a few months back….but I'm not at liberty to disclose legal matters, as you may well imagine," Thornton said.

"Now, that doesn't surprise me in the least. He seemed to court trouble anywhere he went," Paxman said. "He was a scoundrel through and through."

Never in a million years would Thornton have expected that Leonards, the dead man in the Infirmary, the man that caused a ruckus with Margaret and her lover was from Helstone as well, and may have been known to them before that fateful day. This was too much of a coincidence for his liking, and his logical mind found that unsettling. Perhaps there was more to the situation that he had intervened in than met the eye. Had he (Thornton) embroiled himself in a bigger intrigue than just a mere altercation between a drunken fool and a gentleman at Outwood Station?

There was so much he did not know about the Hale family, and he had taken them on face value- a former clergyman, a dissenter from the Church, his wife, his daughter, friends of his landlord, gentlefolk- but it seemed they had many secrets. His mind whirled from confusion to anger to uncertainty and then back to confusion. He had always prided himself as a good judge of character, but Margaret had surprised him.

Perhaps the whole family were not whom he thought they were.

Coming to Helstone may turn out to be a very bad idea, he said to himself.

"Does the name 'Dickenson' ring a bell?" Thornton asked. He was convinced that Frederick Dickenson and Margaret's Outwood companion were one and the same person, but the man had denied it, which could be expected of unscrupulous gentlemen who kept mistresses. Commonsense suggested that Dickenson stood to lose the Barbour fortune if his adultery ever came to light and the marriage became annulled.

"Dickenson? ….I have lived in Helstone all my life," Paxman replied, "and no one with that name has ever been here. It's a small enough place as you can see. Have you tried asking for them at Lyndhurst or Stoney Cross? They are bigger that Helstone and you might have better luck there."

"Do you know the Hales then?" Thornton asked, and wondered whether he had been looking at this the wrong way round and that perhaps Margaret was the target and Dickenson had been trying to protect her.

"Our former vicar was called Hale. Lovely man. Lovely family," Paxman said. "I take it he moved to Milton then. Are they well?"

"The Hales are well," Thornton replied, wondering whether the folks in Helstone even knew that Mrs. Hale had since died, and recalling that Mr. Hale did not speak of the place with quite the same fondness and nostalgia as Margaret did.

He did not have to debate long about whether to tell Paxman about Mrs. Hale for he heard the rumble of the train in the distance, and he did not wish to prolong the acquaintance. "My train approaches," Thornton said and he stood up, bowed, shook hands with Paxman and bent to pick his carpetbag and began to move towards the edge of the platform.

"Shame about their troubles, with the dreadful business of that scandal," Paxman said.

"Scandal? Scandal…" Thornton stopped in his tracks and turned round, perplexed. The only thing that came to his mind had to be Mr. Hale's dissent, for he was sure that Margaret and Dickenson's liaison must have remained a dark and sordid secret if Frederick was not even known in Helstone.

"Does a man not have the right to be true to his conscience anymore?" Thornton said and shook his head in disbelief and disdain at the incredulity and narrow-mindedness of the southern sensibilities, which would consider dissenting as a 'big scandal'. This was probably what made the Hales leave Hampshire altogether and come to Milton.

"To follow one's conscience will be putting it mildly. The papers even described Hale as …. _a traitor of the blackest dye, a base ungrateful disgrace to his profession….._ No one knows the full story, but I daresay it broke Mrs. Hale's heart," Paxman said.

"A traitor of the blackest dye…." Thornton repeated those words thoughtfully and something in him did not wish to hear any more negative talk about the Hales. His ire kindled as his ideal, his utopia began to shatter into shards around him.

He concluded that coming to Helstone had turned out to be a bad idea, definitely.

" ..You reckon that dissenting is the same as treachery- a hanging offence?" Thornton asked with discernible annoyance in his voice.

"No, but mutiny is.." Paxman said.

"..Mutiny?….. in the church? The Reverend Hale?" Thornton scoffed.

"No, no, young Hale, the son, Frederick," he replied over the din of the train as it slowed down and stopped at the platform, but Thornton did not hear what Paxman said because he had in his impatience boarded the train and slammed the door shut behind him.

He slammed his bag onto the overhead rack and took his seat and mused and fumed over the revelations in the past four days from Le Havre and Helstone. He decided to get to Milton and resume his lessons with Mr. Hale when his tutor returned from Oxford. He then would ask for a private audience with Margaret and try to be a friend, for that misguided young lady had embroiled herself with people of dubious conduct in Dickenson and Leonards. He knew that he should continue to protect her from herself, in spite of herself, and her proclivities for scandal. Nothing had changed for she did not love him, but he would no longer feign an indifference to her. He had to hope, hold on to hope, and perhaps she would let him rescue her.

* * *

But John Thornton's day was about to get very bad. Much worse indeed.

Richard Hale died that morning.

* * *

 _Thanks for the reviews/ favs/ follows. It has been very encouraging._

 _I want to thank my BETA – Asian-Inkwell, for the prompt feedback and corrections._

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	3. Chapter 3 - Comforting Miss Hale

Chapter Three – Comforting Miss Hale

* * *

Thornton arrived at the train station in the early evening and made his way home to freshen up and change his clothing. He had a quick dinner with his mother and left for Crampton.

"You've been gone for nine days, and a mere two hours after you come back home, you now wish to go for a lesson at the Hales. I will never understand why you keep tormenting yourself with that family?" his mother retorted.

"I won't be long, I promise you," he said. He knew the Hales would not be expecting him so he prepared himself for a short visit, a courtesy call, something to renew his encounter with Margaret and her father. He now knew more of their secrets and it had brought forth his compassion. He now knew that Dickenson was not a viable suitor and he stood a chance, albeit a very slim one.

There was a spring in his step, and he made the twenty-five minute journey in nineteen, despite having to dodge several icy patches on the pavement. " _Slow down, walk, don't skip,"_ he told himself. As he approached the house, he noticed the drawn curtains and black ribbons and he stopped abruptly, stared at the house, turned a full circle, then began to run, and then stopped again, and then slowly made his way towards the door, leaden-footed, one step in front of the other as if an invisible pulley dragged him onwards.

Perhaps the ribbons had been there since Mrs. Hale passed away and he had just not noticed them. Perhaps he was on the wrong street, wrong house. Perhaps….

As he reached the familiar door, and braced himself to knock, the door opened and Mr. Bell stood there. After both men got over their initial surprise of seeing each other, Bell became the first to speak. "Come in, come in," he said and ushered Thornton into the hallway. Thornton noticed Bell's sombre attire and got dizzy. He blinked and looked around for something to hold on to.

"Hale is dead," Bell's voice cut through the buzzing sound in Thornton's head. "He died in his sleep back in my home in Oxford. My maid found him this morning. His heart just stopped."

Thornton was speechless, dumbfounded. He looked up the dimly lit stairs to see if he could find something out of place, anything to contradict everything Mr. Bell had just told him. He did not see a contradiction. Instead he heard confirmation, loud and clear, Dixon wailing at the very top of her voice.

"Miss Hale?..."Thornton blurted out

Bell continued, "Poor dear girl, how will she bear it? How can anyone bear it?...Losing both parents in quick succession..."

"How?..."Thornton asked

"In shock, as anyone would expect," Bell sighed. "I had to call for the doctor and he gave her some draughts to sedate her. She is sleeping at the moment, and I will return in the morning to see her."

Bell reached and opened the door. Thornton stood frozen in front of the open door, mouth wide open, unsure of what to do. He wanted to go upstairs to see her, but he knew he had to leave. "Come now, let us go," Bell prompted him, and he stepped through the doorway. Bell followed him outside and shut the door behind them, and they both leave the house into the cold made bitter by the wind.

"What is to become of her?" Thornton finally managed to ask.

"She goes to London, to her aunt. Margaret is not yet twenty, and Mrs. Shaw has the first claim on her," Bell replied.

"When?..."

"I will send a telegram in the morning, for the aunt to come for her," Bell said. "To be honest, I am reluctant to send her there. Thornton, I wish she was my daughter, and I could bring her home with me."

" _I wish she were mine, and she were to come to me_ ," Thornton thought to himself.

"Hale asked me to look after her if anything were to ever happened to him, but I never thought it would come to this, for him to go before me,…sixty and gouty. He was just fifty-five.…" Bell said.

Both men shuffle their feet through the snow as if they were weighed down by the burden on their minds. Thornton even found himself struggling to recollect the sound of Hale's voice and he began to replay their last meeting in his mind. It was four weeks back, when Hale told him about the reunion with his fellow dons at Oxford. He wanted to remember Hale gentle face, but to his annoyance, Frederick Dickenson's face flashed through his mind, and stuck in its stead. Damn Dickenson, he cursed under his breath.

"….Where are you staying?" Thornton asked when he noticed that Bell switched the small travelling bag he clutched to the other hand.

"I have no idea," Bell said, and stopped in his tracks and stared vacantly ahead. "I absolutely have no idea. The Clarendon or The Grand, perhaps.

"You may stay with us. We have room to spare, and my mother is always prepared to receive guests even at short notice," Thornton offered and took the travel bag from Bell, "And please let me know if I could be of assistance," Thornton added.

* * *

….

Thornton returned to Crampton the next day, and the next. "Miss Margaret is resting and cannot receive you today," Dixon said through a half-opened door.

"It's all right, Dixon, I will wait in the study for a while if you don't mind," he replied when he heard the same excuse on the third day. "It is snowing heavily as you see, and it is probably best to wait for it to settle before I venture back to the mills." He left forty minutes later, still without seeing her.

Dixon soon realised that isolating Miss Margaret from Mr. Thornton seemed to increase her despondency, for she constantly asked if the Thorntons had heard about Papa, and whether she should pay them a visit to inform them. Therefore, Dixon decided to write to Mrs. Shaw to hasten her arrival and rescue her grief-stricken niece from Mr. Thornton.

Mr. Thornton's sin was that he was from Milton and if he got his way, he would make the young mistress stay in the smoky town that had claimed two members of the Hale family and was now gunning for the next candidate.

If Mr. Thornton were a Londoner, a southerner even, and not a tradesman, it would have been a different matter altogether.

…

* * *

..

Bell was startled at how gaunt and pale Margaret had become in just under a week. He had been busy trying to settle Hale's affairs in town and had not had much time to attend to her. Dixon's message reminded him of the duty he owed to his friend and his goddaughter.

"Margaret dear," Mr. Bell said, "Dixon tells me that you are homesick for London."

"For some reason, homesickness and London do not seem to belong together," Margaret replied. The last time she was in London was at the Exhibition, right after the riots, and she had felt she had to defend Milton as her new home to her Aunt and Edith, who turned up their noses at anywhere north of the Watford Gap in Hertfordshire.

"What if the 'clever Lennox' was to attend to you in Harley Street, will that make a difference?" Bell asked.

"I don't care for Henry Lennox in the way you're implying," she said.

"So, if it is not homesickness for London that plagues you, could it be a certain student of Latin and the Classics then?" Bell asked cocking his head to one side to observe her, and he was rewarded with a pretty blush on her cheeks.

"She could tell that Mr. Bell was fishing for information, so she replied with a half-smile, "Mr. Thornton doesn't think of me in that way. He is Papa's friend. That's all."

"I think he loves you, very much indeed. Nonetheless, I feel something else must be bothering you," Bell said

Margaret nodded. "Yes, I am worried. I don't know what is to become of me if I was to go to London. I was lonely when we first came to Milton, and I soon settled here, and have made this my home. I have friends here. I have a purpose, but now I despair about my future in London."

"Your father and I talked a lot about you in Oxford. I promised him that I would take care of you if anything were to happen to him," Bell replied. "Right now, you need to grieve, and I think that getting you to London will give you the clarity you require to make the right decisions about your future."

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	4. Chapter 4 - Melancholy and Melodrama

Chapter Four – Melancholy and Melodrama

…

* * *

Thornton's office, Marlborough Mills, Milton

"Now, I remember why I never got married. Histrionics, that is why, from ladies and their daughters. Inescapable," Bell said as he sank into a chair in Thornton's office, visibly fatigued. "And if I hear one word from Dixon again about how Milton has killed the whole family, I swear, I will pull out my beard."

"Unfortunately we have to concede that Miss Hale has lost so much in Milton," Thornton replied.

"Margaret is different, mind you- such a sensible, practical and sweet girl. I have tried to keep her here for as long as I could, in the hope that a better solution may be reached, but I may now have to capitulate and send her back to those ladies in London," Bell said.

"What could possibly be a better solution for a girl who has just been orphaned?" Thornton asked

"She needs someone to care for her. I am a bachelor, you see, too old and set in my ways, I cannot take her to live with me in Oxford. I suppose that is the same dilemma you would face, unless….never mind."

"Unless?….you were saying?…" Thornton asked prompting Bell to complete his train of thought. Instead, Bell waved his hand dismissively. "Please sir…you wanted to say something….." Thornton insisted.

"Hale and I did wonder if there was a _tendresse_ between Margaret and yourself," Bell said.

"Miss Hale will never have me," Thornton scoffed. "To her, I am merely her father's friend."

"That was in the past. Bereavement has a way of bringing clarity into matters of the heart," Bell said.

"I believe her preferences might lie elsewhere," Thornton said, staring intently at several contract papers to feign some nonchalance, anything to quell his agitation.

"Are you thinking about Henry Lennox?" Bell asked

"No, I was not. Is he courting Miss Hale then?" Thornton's head shot up in evident alarm.

Bell smirked. "Until now, it never did occur to me that there could be another gentleman. A third suitor? Hmm… Oh well, we may have the Bard's midsummer's night dream at work. Now, now, how do I get hold of Puck's salve?" Bell said with a mischievous lilt.

Thornton gave a deep sigh, irritated that Bell could find any humour in a topic so painful to him.

"Come now, Thornton, as much as it would please me, and Hale, if I might add, for he thought highly of you, I could never impose on you that you marry her, but if your promise still stands," Mr. Bell said, rubbing his eyes in frustration, "she needs your help."

"If she needs my help, I will gladly oblige," Thornton said. He will not be goaded into admitting that depth of his feelings to this wily old man, to confide that marrying Margaret will be no imposition. On the contrary, it will be his delight.

"I received a reply to my telegram today," Bell said. "The aunt is unable to travel because her daughter, Edith Lennox, is about to put to bed, and I have to return to Oxford to make the funeral arrangements."

"How may I be of assistance?" he managed to ask as he rose to pour himself a glass of water from the jug to camouflage his eagerness that perhaps Margaret may be allowed to come to stay with him after all. His hands shook and he spilled some water on the paper in front of him, running the ink, and he swiftly fetched a strip of blotting paper to dab the mess.

"I want Dixon to stay behind in Milton, and pack up the house, and put up their goods for auction. Margaret needs to be escorted to London, and the aunt said the only option may be to send Henry Lennox over."

"I will escort her to London. There is no need for Lennox to come," he offered without hesitation. "I will do it…."he repeated for emphasis. He will think of that pesky problem of needing a chaperone later.

"Very well, thank you," Bell concluded. "I trust you to take care of my precious goddaughter. She needs friends like you at this time, and I hope to see you in Oxford."

"It will be an honour to do this for Mr. Hale…to assist his daughter," Thornton replied. "My sister, Fanny will be the ideal escort. She will always jump at any chance to travel to London." His mother was out of the question. She had never gone more than twenty miles outside of Milton and would definitely not wish to travel two hundred miles to London to help a girl who had broken her beloved son's heart.

With that settled, he made his way to Watson's house to speak with Fanny. This was to be the first favour he would ever demand of her, and he hoped…prayed..she would oblige.

Fanny agreed.

Everyone had their price, and Fanny's chaperone services will set him back twelve pounds; twelve pounds well spent as it would give him three more days with Margaret.

* * *

…

Hale House, Crampton, Milton

Thornton returned to Crampton two days later, and this time round, he brought some of his ledgers with him to work on in the study whilst he waited to see Margaret and tell her the plans for their impending travel. Dixon had already started packing up the house for the auction, and boxes and crates littered everywhere. He almost tripped over an open trunk box by the door to the study door. It held what seemed like Margaret's dresses and personal effects.

He began to clear a section of Mr. Hale's desk to work on, and he soon came across a bundle of letters held with a blue ribbon addressed to the Hales, a few photographs along with some jewelry and legal papers that Margaret had put aside to take with her to London. He was too well bred to snoop and encroach on another person's privacy, so he moved the bundle out of the way.

One of the photographs fell on the floor and he bent to pick it up. He looked at it. It was of a young man with his arms around two young girls. The HMS Orion Navy Gun-ship could be seen in the background. They were all smiling. Thornton's face fell as recognition dawned on him. He slowly turned it round and looked at the back and it read – Margaret, Frederick and Edith, Woolwich Dockyard, London, 1843. It was taken, eight years past. Dickenson was in a Navy Petty Officer's uniform and Margaret and her cousin were in boot-length summer dresses and both had their hair down, and their girlish grins reminded him of what Fanny looked like at eleven to twelve years old.

Epiphany. It now made sense why Frederick Dickenson was not known in Helstone- for he was a sailor, and they were acquainted with him in London, when she lived with the aunt and cousin. He now understood everything, and that piece of the puzzle had fallen into place. As he pondered this, he heard Dixon's footsteps coming towards the study and he swiftly returned the letters and photos back to the place where he had found them.

"Miss Margaret is waiting for you in the Drawing Room," Dixon said and came to summon him. "Thank you, thank you," he said and he bounded up the stairs, taking two at a time. Dixon followed him bearing the tea tray and a few biscuits.

He put his head through the door and saw her, seated staring vacantly at the burning embers in the fireplace, regal and beautiful, even in deep mourning.

"Miss Hale…" he said from the doorway.

She looked up. "Oh.. Mr. Thornton…..Papa….Pa," she began, and her lower lips began to quiver.

He propelled himself towards her and realised his advance could startle her, so he slowed down and gently took a seat next to her on the couch. Dixon placed the tea on a nearby stool and went and stood by the door.

"I am so sorry for your loss," he said in a low urgent tone, "Mr. Hale was like a father to me." Once again, at the mention of Hale's name, Dickenson's image came up vividly in his mind's eye and his face darkened, which startled Margaret.

"I would never see him again," she said and began to whimper and rock gently, back and forth.

Thornton knew it was not the right time to bring up Frederick. It then occurred to him that perhaps Mr. Hale was trying to send him a message, from beyond the grave, asking him to protect his daughter from that scoundrel. "You are not alone," he said quietly to her, "you will always have me."

She nodded but the whimpering did not stop.

His heart was in torment, watching her suffer. " _Excruciating_." Margaret desperately needed someone to comfort her. He desperately wanted to be that person. _Uncompassionate Propriety_ would not permit it, yet his beloved suffered in agony, a mere seventeen inches away from him. He could not wrap his arms around her, and cradle her in his lap and console her, because she did not belong to him. She did not belong to Lennox or Dickenson or anyone else for that matter. Three men loved her, and yet she had no one to comfort her. Then Thornton, without thinking, for if he had, he would have lost his nerve; so without thinking, he moved closer to her.

She stared at his clenched hands, which had become cold because the fireplace in the study where he had spent the last quarter hour had not been lit. "You may warm them by the fire," she offered, but he was reluctant to leave her side and take the seat next to fire, therefore he began to rub his hands together to generate some heat.

"May I pour you a cup of tea?" he should have asked.

" _May I hold your hand?"_ he would have loved to ask. He was certain he would get all the heat that he needed if he could only touch her hand.

He only realised he had thought out loud when Margaret extended a dainty hand towards him and it coincided with a sharp intake of breath from Dixon. He stared at it for a moment, dazed, and he tentatively took it, and enclosed it within his large ones.

"Miss Margaret, Mr. Thornton…pst…," Dixon hissed, "Mr. Thornton ….pst …pst…. improper…you cannot…" Thornton flinched but decided to ignore all her mutterings. He did not let go of Margaret's hand. He could not let go. He rubbed it and until his cold hands warmed up, and her warm hands cooled.

Thornton could have sworn that his heart pounded louder than the entire percussion section of the Milton Philharmonic. She soon stopped sobbing but did not pull away. It was inappropriate to enjoy the contact particularly under such sad circumstances, but he had dreamt of this moment almost from the very first time he'd met her. He would gladly stay in this position all evening if propriety were to allow, so he decided to cherish this moment, like he had done with every other contact, pleasant or not, that he'd ever had with her.

"Miss Margaret," Dixon's voice cut into their reverie, "Miss Margaret, I will be in the Master's room if you need me," she said, and gave Thornton a pointed glare as she departed, leaving the door slightly open to give them some privacy, but wide enough to draw in the cold draught from the hallway.

"We leave at noon, on the day after tomorrow," he said as soon as Dixon was out of earshot. "My sister is looking forward to the trip. She can't stop talking of ordering dresses and furnishing for her new home from London to show off to the ladies in Milton."

"Mrs. Watson has been very kind. Please give her my thanks," Margaret said.

"I'm curious. What can you tell me about your family and friends in London?" he asked, going against his earlier decision to not inquire about Dickenson just yet.

"There is not much to tell, that I believe will be of interest to you," she said. "I feel you have a more fulfilling life here in Milton. I know I do."

"You do?" he pondered her words and asked with a tentative hope….."..and you approve of Milton?"

She nodded.

Thornton grinned. "If we are improving on more acquaintance, perhaps you may wish to visit us sometime in the future. We will be happy to receive you."

"Thank you, but I do not know if I could. My aunt will not let me."

"If Fanny was to invite you as her friend, perhaps she may be swayed," Thornton offered.

Margaret sighed. Everyone, Mr. Bell, Dixon, Mr. Thornton, it seemed, all wanted her to go back to London, yet she was reluctant to leave Milton. "I'm not good company today, I'm afraid," she said and pulled her hand out of Thornton's and clasped it with the other one and tucked them in her lap.

Thornton was alarmed. He did not want to lose the ground he had just acquired, and he berated himself for discussing frivolities at such a time.

"Forgive me. I….I've been foolish. May I just sit with you?" he asked. That was the next best thing, seeing he had scuppered his chance to continue to hold her hand.

She looked at him. Her wide eyes had pooled with tears and, she gave a barely perceptible nod. They remained side by side, in companionable silence, staring at the crackling embers in the fireplace.

Thornton was about to apologise again when he realised that she was fast asleep. Without warning, and to his bewilderment, she had nodded off. After he checked to assure himself that she had not fainted, he rose up with as much gentleness as he could manage, and went to the door to call for Dixon. He got no reply. He then returned to Margaret and eased her onto the couch to lie down properly. He took of her slippers, but wisely counseled himself not to linger at her feet, lest he brought on those other sensations that constantly beset him in the privacy of his bedchamber, and at the mere thought of this woman. He swiftly set the cushions around her and draped a shawl over her.

The only time he had come so close to an unconscious Margaret was when she was rendered senseless by a rioter's missile at Marlborough Mills. On that occasion, he carried her from the balcony into the Drawing Room and laid her on a couch and then bared his heart to her unhearing ears.

This time round, he was content to pull a chair next to the couch, sit there, and watch her sleep, praying and hoping that underneath that steady rise and fall of her chest resides a heart that will one day, beat for him. He tucked back a loose tendril of hair behind her ear and returned to his seat, leant back with his elbow on the arm of his chair, crossed his long legs, and rested his chin in the palm of his hand to resume his watch. He was smiling.

Dixon came in to collect the tea tray, and was alarmed at the scandalous sight they presented in the low lantern lights of the Drawing Room.

"I called for you," he started with an accusing tone. Dixon put down her lantern and moved towards Margaret and bent to look closely at her. Thornton rose to give Dixon some space around Margaret, and looked at the maid with concern. "She just fell asleep. Completely without warning," he said and clicked his fingers to illustrate.

Dixon replied, "It must be the draughts from the doctor. She had them with her tea." She straightened up and looked at Thornton. "It had not worked so well before, but now that she is asleep I think you would have to leave now."

"Oh, goodness no" he begged Dixon. "Please let me stay. Please. I promise not to disturb her." She agreed, left the room, and returned with a blanket. She tucked it snugly around Margaret's shoulders, and then left them, but with the door now wide open.

"Mr. Thornton," she said, "You know this is highly improper, and you cannot let anyone know about this. I will only let you stay because she has hardly slept in the past week, and she looks so peaceful now. Besides, I still have a lot of packing to do."

He nodded gratefully and took his seat.

He left a full hour and a half later, in a very good mood, and with Margaret still sleeping soundly.

13


	5. Chapter 5 - Secrets and Lies

A short fan fiction. A/U- Events from the book and TV miniseries all in the mix.

 _What if Thornton's visit to Le Havre and Helstone revealed more than he'd bargained for?_ Book based with series overtones.

* * *

Chapter Five – Secrets and Lies.

* * *

Marlborough Mills, Milton

If there is one thing that frustrates Hannah Thornton the most, it is when her son succumbs to a certain disposition that makes it difficult to hold any meaningful conversations with him. It tends to happen whenever he keeps a secret from her, which, thank goodness, was a rare occurrence, yet had now reared up its ugly head. One way or the other, Hannah was sure that it always has something to do with a certain southern lass from Crampton.

"Where have you been?" she asks; "Here and there," he replies.

"What are you doing?" she asks; "This and that," he replies.

Other questions are met with – "soon," "probably," "definitely," "never."

The worst replies were when he merely shrugs, nods, grunts or smirks.

As for the scowl, that was a permanent feature on his handsome face, but she would never criticize him for that, well, because he inherited it from her.

His mood had been up and down ever since he returned from Le Havre just over a week ago. His friend, Mr. Hale had died in Oxford; and their landlord, Mr. Bell had stayed with them for a few days to settle Hale's affairs in town. Thornton was due to leave on the morrow to attend to some very important errand, he says, in London, at the behest of Mr. Bell, and then Mr. Hale's funeral in Oxford. The backlog of work at the mill had clearly taken its toll on him, and the failure to secure new investment for the mill had also piled on the pressure, yet with his kind heart and selfless nature, he insisted on still keeping an eye on that girl. Hannah could tell that her son was keeping a difficult secret, something that was eating away at him. At first, it had annoyed her, but lately, it has started to worry her. "….If only things could go back to where they were before the Hales came to Milton…"

"John…..John…..You have been staring at that calling card for the last half-hour, at the very least. What troubles you?" Mrs. Thornton asked, and leaned over his shoulder to read the address. "Hmm…..Giles Arnauld, Shipping Agent, 48 Rue l'Annecy, Le Havre," she murmured to herself.

"I beg your pardon," Thornton said, breaking out of his reverie. "I have this dilemma,…" he looked at the card again, then turned it over to look at the back, and promptly tucked it back into his wallet. On the reverse of the card, handwritten in blue ink, was the address of Barbour and Company in Cadiz, Andalucía.

"Does this dilemma have anything to do with getting a new investor?" Hannah asked.

He shrugged and shook his head. "No, but an acquaintance of mine is being deceived by someone that they trust implicitly. If the deception were to ever come to light, this person will suffer a great deal."

"If it does not have anything to do with the mill, I think it is best left well alone," Hannah said, relieved that he finally told her something meaningful to respond to.

"I will never be able to live with myself, knowing of the danger they were in, and yet choosing to look the other way," he replied.

"You could always warn them," Hannah suggested.

"I must admit, that I did consider it, but I am not so sure it will be wise to tell them directly. We do have a mutual acquaintance, but I will have to disclose the information to this third party and in doing so, it could make matters worse. Therein lies my dilemma," he replied.

"I do not like the sound of this. Concealment never bodes well for trust in friendship, or in business for that matter," she said.

"I plan to tell them sometime in the future, but I would much rather prefer that the danger is stopped now."

"In that case, you could always warn this mischief-maker that you would expose their scheming if they do not stop. That way, you would stop the threat and protect your acquaintance at the same time," Hannah suggested.

"Thank you, Mother. I knew I could always count on you," he replied, clapped his hands together and settled down to his lunch.

Mrs. Thornton smiled to herself, relieved that her son still relied on her, and sought her for counsel, and that she had not let him down. She wondered privately though, who the cryptic acquaintance and deceiver were. Despite his high standing in Milton, John did not have many friends apart from the late Mr. Hale, and their landlord, Mr. Bell. In recent times, he had also become too familiar for Hannah's liking with that Union upstart, Higgins. But then, it could be Watson, Fanny's husband; or perhaps it was one of the other masters, - Hamper, or Slickson, or even this 'Arnauld' person from Le Havre, otherwise, no one else came to mind. Whenever her son deemed it fit to confide in her, he would. So she decided to drop the matter.

After lunch, Thornton left to go to his study and draft a letter to Frederick Dickenson, to ward him off Margaret, and threaten to expose his deception to the Barbours. He planned to put it in the post before they leave for London in the morning.

He had a mission from to protect his tutor's daughter, to fight her corner. Even if he never got to marry her, he will do all within his power to protect her from heartbreak. He knew firsthand what the agony of unrequited love felt like, deep within the core of a person's heart, and he will not wish it on his worst enemy, even Dickenson, talk less on his first and only love. Maybe one day in the distant future, he may disclose the extent of Dickenson's betrayal to her, but only if and when she has the right person around to comfort her.

…

* * *

..

Watson House, Milton

That evening, Thornton found Fanny at her desk in her sitting room. She was writing a letter on patterned notepaper with floral borders. She painstakingly dotted the i's and j's with beautiful circles, and curved the g's, j's and y's into the next words. She then placed the letter in a matching floral bordered envelope. He watched patiently as she completed the ritual by putting on the wax seal, branding it with Watson's insignia, and then spraying some jasmine scent on the envelope.

He quietly observed her, and pride swelled in his chest for her. His sister had grown and matured since her marriage, and for the first time in her life, he had asked her to do something for him, and she had agreed. The plan was for Thornton, Margaret and Fanny to travel together to London. Fanny will then stay with Margaret at Harley Street, as ladies were not meant to attend funerals, whilst Thornton travelled back to Oxford. He would then come back to London for his sister, and then return to Milton after three days.

"Fanny, I saw Dr. Donaldson's carriage leaving as I arrived. Is everyone all right?" Thornton asked as she poured some tea for herself and her brother.

"I'm very well now. I was peaky in the morning, that's all," she replied. The Doctor said that I am very young and healthy and that it was perfectly normal to feel so."

"I'm glad to hear it. We would not want you to come down with a fever now. Anyway, I will not keep you for long. I just came to let you know that we will leave at noon tomorrow. I will send the carriage….."Thornton said.

"Er….that is what I need to say to you. Doctor Donaldson has advised me to be careful. I cannot travel with you anymore," Fanny replied. "I will not be going to London."

"You cannot change your mind so late in the day," Thornton cried. "You gave your word to escort Miss Hale to London,….and her family expect us to arrive tomorrow."

"Here," she went to the desk, took the sealed envelope, and thrust it at him, "I have written a note to Miss Hale, explaining everything. Perhaps you can give it to her for me."

"What is this? Your half-hearted excuse?" he snapped.

"No, my heart-felt apology," she replied. "I am truly sorry, but I cannot go."

"Unbelievable," Thornton rose and raked his fingers through his hair.

"It is not my fault. I am merely following the doctor's orders. Don't you want to know why?" Fanny said and pranced around the room excitedly, expecting John to say ' _aha, I got it; or something like that_.' The scowl she received from her brother told her that nothing of the sort was forthcoming. "I see you are determined not to be curious. Anyway, I have the best news ever. Watson will be over the moon. Can you not guess?"

"You know that I am not good at these guessing games. What is it?" Thornton asked in a clipped tone.

"Oh John, you can be so exasperating. I am going to have a baby. You will be an uncle sometime in the summer. Aren't you going to congratulate me?" Fanny said.

"Congratulations Fanny. You've done well. But I still do not see why that should prevent you from travelling tomorrow?" Thornton said.

"The doctor said that I will be all right as long as I don't have an accident or do anything stupid such as riding a horse. You see, even though I've never ridden a horse, I cannot take the risk of travelling on trains that could jostle you about. It cannot be helped, but you would just have to seek alternatives, or travel by yourselves."

"Crickey, Fanny, you will be in no danger if you go on the train. You know I cannot travel with Miss Hale without company, and I have never asked you to do anything for me before," he pleaded. "It is just for three days, and we will be back in Milton. From what I hear, they have a grand piano and a huge library to keep you entertained. I am sure that you will enjoy the trip."

"For the life of me, I will never understand why you decided to escort Miss Hale in the first place," Fanny said.

"Mr. Bell requested that I do this, and Mr. Hale was my friend and tutor. It's the least I could do for them," Thornton replied.

"My Watson thinks it is because you are in love with her, but I think she is the one that loves you. Be careful. You don't want to give her the wrong impression. Besides, Anne Latimer will be so cross. You don't want to lose her now that your business is in difficulty. Remember that Miss Hale is penniless."

"I beg you not to discuss my affairs with your husband or Miss Latimer," Thornton snapped. "Fanny, what do you expect me to do now?"

"Why not ask Mamma to escort her?" Fanny said. "You know that she will do anything for you. Surely, she would understand the situation."

"It is at such short notice, and I had not told her that you were coming to London with me; and that we were to be gone for three days. She does not even know the reason for the trip," Thornton said.

Fanny let out a shrill cry. "Mama does not know? You never keep any secrets from her. I do not want to be in your shoes right now. She will let you have it... Indeed, she will."

"I have to be going. I have to find a solution to this problem at hand," he said, and rose to leave. Fanny went to fetch her bonnet and cloak, and followed after him.

"Where are you going to?" he asked. "I thought you said that you wanted to rest and not take unnecessary risks? Doctor's orders, remember."

"I am coming to Marlborough Mills with you. I want to be there when you tell her," she said with wide-eyed anticipation of exciting drama. "You are her favourite, and she is never mad at you. I just have to see this," she chuckled.

"No, you will not be coming with me. I will tell her in my own time, and on my own terms, if you don't mind," he said.

"You cannot stop me from going to see my mother. I have happy news to tell her," she said in a sing-song voice.

"Should you not wait to tell Watson first, before you go round prattling to everyone else in Milton?" he asked. "Fanny, I do not want to see you nosing around the house and telling Mother anything before I see her. Have a good evening."

He could still hear Fanny chuckling something about a tongue-lashing as he left her house.

The only option left will be to appeal to his mother.

..

* * *

…

Thornton House, Marlborough Mills, Milton

Thornton waited a full half-hour after Fanny's carriage departed through the gates of Marlborough Mills before he ventured out of the mills. He cursed the longer his sister stayed on in the house, waiting for him to come home. The last shift of workers had gone home over two hours ago, and by the time he left his office, his fingers had gone numb due to the cold that had drifted in under the door from the weaving room. Nevertheless, he was not about to give Fanny the satisfaction of witnessing him at the receiving end of a scolding from his mother. Truth be told, he knew his mother had never embarrassed him in company, but then, he had never given her cause to do so. If anything, he was the one with the short temper, and Fanny with the tantrums, and they had both inherited that from their father, in short anyone with Thornton blood in their veins. The unsettling thing was that he could not predict how his mother would react if she were to be goaded on by Fanny.

A fresh blanket of snow, at least twelve inches deep, had now descended over the yard, bringing with it, thick freezing fog. He crossed the yard and swiftly made his way to the house, and braced himself to face the wrath of the Thornton matriarch.

Thornton found his mother pacing the room from one end to the other and back, and her speed increased steadily with each new lap. Hannah only did this whenever she was livid; and the last time she was so vexed was when Betsy, the maid resigned her job, because her fiancé, Leonards, had died in the Infirmary from some internal complaint. Rumour had it that the man had also had an altercation with Miss Hale's companion at Outwood Station, prior to his admission into hospital.

"I see that Fanny has given you the preambles," Thornton said, and took a seat in his favourite armchair. "And I take it that you disapprove."

"Unbelievable…" Mrs. Thornton fumed.

"…Will you please stay in one place? You are making me dizzy….." Thornton said wearily, as she moved across his line of sight once again.

"Why have you kept this from me?...that you'd arranged for my own daughter to travel with you to London for three days, and stay with Miss Hale and her family?" Mrs. Thornton cried.

"Fanny is a married woman, and she no longer needs your consent, Mother, and besides I wanted to avoid getting this reaction from you," he said, struggling to keep his voice steady.

"Hmmph,"she fumed, "To believe that my own flesh and blood could bear to be in the company of that proud and disagreeable lass."

"You talk as if we'd betrayed you. Miss Hale has no one else in Milton but us. She needs a friend now, more than you could ever imagine," Thornton replied.

"I did try to befriend her on several occasions, at your request. Might I remind you that she refused my offer of the Landau to take her and her father to her mother's funeral, and she has rebuffed every effort on my part to become friends with her? The last time I went there, to carry out a duty I promised her mother, she flounced off like an offended princess," Mrs. Thornton said.

"Fanny was so sure that you would oblige me," Thornton said.

"John, you know I will do anything for you," she said, still pacing.

"So will you do this?" Thornton asked.

"No, not even if Hell were to freeze over," she hissed, with an iciness that belied the fact that she was now boiling inside.

He winced. He knew that tone. It came out, sharp and quick, but it slices through the air like a knife. He hated that tone.

"I gave my word that I will see her safe to her family, and I intend to keep it," Thornton said.

"And in order to keep your word, you expect me to escort her to London, spend all that time in her company, and comfort her all day and all night?" Mrs. Thornton said, and stopped in front the window and peered into the fog-laden dusk that descended gloomily over the mill yard.

"I do not expect anything of the sort. I only wanted you to come along to ensure that propriety was not flouted," he replied.

"So the high and mighty aunt will not make the journey to Milton lest we taint her halo? It is not as if she is the midwife," Mrs. Thornton said.

"You would do the same if it was Fanny in danger," he said. "Captain Lennox is out of the question. He will not leave his wife's side either, and he plans to rejoin his regiment in Corfu soon after the birth."

"Surely, there must be other options," Mrs. Thornton said, turning around and resuming her walk to the opposite end of the room. "What about her gentleman friend at Outwood Station? This should be the time for him to come to her rescue, don't you think?"

He could not tell her or any soul for that matter that the Outwood man was married and unable to claim her; for that information had the potential to permanently destroy Margaret's reputation, because any man who married a woman with a married lover would be branded a cuckold, and become a laughing stock in all the clubs and bars in town. He did not think it wise to mention that Henry Lennox was considered a suitable candidate to fetch her from Milton either.

"You give me no choice. I suppose we will just have to travel without a chaperone," Thornton said resignedly. "You see, it's either that, or she stays here with us at Marlborough Mills," he replied, and used his trump card. Now, if that does not work, he will threaten to write to Mrs. Shaw, to tell her that Margaret could stay with them in Milton indefinitely. That will firmly set the cat among the pigeons.

Yes, that should work.

It did.

As far as Hannah was concerned, having that girl stay in her house was untenable, but mounting a successful challenge against John's desire to escort Margaret Hale was destined to fail. She had to think fast, and steer the course of this conversation towards a more agreeable solution.

"Three days, John," and she held up three fingers for emphasis, "three days, and we will be back to Milton….and our lives will be back to normal."

Thornton nodded, rose and went to her, and placed his hands on her shoulders, and planted a kiss on her forehead. "You have my word. Not a day more," he said and set his jaw to suppress the grin that straining at his cheeks.

"What time does your train leave?" she asked.

"At noon. I need to catch up on some work from about six in the morning, and I should get to Crampton for eleven o'clock, or thereabouts," he replied.

"Very well, John. I will send the carriage over for about ten o'clock. I may not see you before you leave for the mill, but I will make sure that you get a proper breakfast in you before you leave for London. One can never trust those southerners to feed one's son properly," she said, as she made her way upstairs. "I will see to our bags at once."

"I appreciate that." He knew his mother had not forgiven Margaret for rejecting him and her brusqueness following the Outwood incident, but acknowledged her sacrifice in putting her animosity aside to support his quest to get Margaret to London.

Sleep eluded him that night, for in the morning he was going to take Margaret back to her family, and say farewell to the only woman he'd ever loved with little hope of ever seeing her again. He spent the night replaying in his mind every reel of his contact with her…the first tea she served him, the handshake at the Master's dinner, her arms around his neck on the balcony, the bracelet that came up and down her tapered wrist, her rejection, her embrace with Dickenson… and so on.

Three days in London, and afterwards...

12


	6. Chapter 6 - Getting to the Station

Chapter Six – Getting to the station on time.

* * *

Hale House, Crampton, Milton.

Hannah Thornton arrived an hour earlier than her son was expected. "Thank you for coming ma'am," Dixon said and curtseyed as she opened the door. Mrs. Thornton came in, and then Dixon put her head through the doorway to see if there was someone else outside. The porch was clear. She turned round, and saw Mrs. Thornton taking off her coat and bonnet to hand over to her. "You were expecting Mrs. Watson?" Mrs. Thornton said to her. "She will not be coming."

Mrs. Thornton looked all about her. The eeriness in the atmosphere was palpable. The mirrors in the hallway were draped in black and the curtains were drawn to reflect the funereal gloom of the moment. Even the front door seemed to creak on its hinges like the minor musical notes of a dirge. "So much sadness," she muttered to herself.

Margaret's bags and three trunk boxes were by the door. The driver and his assistant came in and began to load them onto the carriage.

The last time Hannah was in the Crampton house was when she came to remonstrate with Margaret over her indiscretion at Outwood station, and that encounter did not turn out well. Nevertheless, she made up her mind to hold her tongue for John's sake. Perhaps seeing her off to Harley Street will be the last duty she would owe to Maria Hale, who had begged her on her deathbed to care for Margaret as she would her own daughter.

Escort the girl to London and all obligations will be fulfilled.

"I am so worried about her, ma'am," Dixon said. "She has not borne this well like when the mistress passed. She was the strong one then, and the youngest in the family, mind. Master Hale was much worse, bawling like a babe, and disturbing the neighbours, and getting us all in a spot of bother, I tell ya…"

"Mister Hale, you mean," Mrs. Thornton corrected, annoyed that Dixon could speak with such impertinence about her employer, his manner of grieving for his wife, and even referring to him as one would a young man- ' _Master Hale indeed'_. Heaven help that servant at Marlborough Mills who ever attempts such sassiness.

"Why did Mr. Hale bring us here? This place has been the death of us all. I will be glad when we leave this town," Dixon grumbled on.

Hannah couldn't agree more. All the brouhaha in her own family began when the Hales moved to Milton, eighteen months ago.

"Please excuse the mess," Dixon said, pointing the packing boxes and crates all over the place. "We have packed up some of what we can, ready for the auction, but there is still so much to do. The furniture is too heavy for me and the Miss to move, and Mr. Higgins has promised to help, when he finishes his shift at the mill."

"I will give you a note to Marlborough Mills, to send for Martha to come and help with the packing," Mrs. Thornton said.

"Martha, our former cook? Thank you ma'am," Dixon said. Martha had worked briefly with the Hales, and left just before Frederick arrived. She had told Dixon that it was Mrs. Thornton that saved her from the workhouse, and nursed her back to health when she fell sick with consumption after her folks died.

"And please let me know if you need any help with the auction," Mrs. Thornton offered to Dixon, who gratefully accepted.

Mrs. Thornton knew first-hand, from the aftermath of her husband's bankruptcy and subsequent suicide, how cruel probate and bailiff auctions could be. Even though the Hales were not a family in debt, the vultures would sniff any desperation on their part to recoup some money, and swoop in on poor Dixon. All the family's cherished heirlooms and artifacts with sentimental value would be unceremoniously dispatched almost always at a lower value, and Margaret would be robbed blind, she was sure of it. Hannah therefore privately decided to assist Dixon when she returns from London, because Margaret always seemed to reject any offer of help, particularly if she knew it had come from her.

"Dixon, if that was Mrs. Watson at the door, could you please show her into the Drawing Room. I will join her presently, and bring up the tea tray," Margaret's voice came from the direction of the kitchen.

"Tis Mrs. Thornton, not Mrs. Watson," Dixon said.

"Oh.." Margaret replied. "Did she say where Mrs. Watson was?"

"Miss Margaret, we should not be yelling across the house. And you should not be doing the work of a servant," Dixon called back.

"Nonsense," Margaret replied. "You have so much work to do yourself. We will have no more of that."

"Bless, her. She is kind and so humble. She insists on helping with the chores, and no work is beneath her," Dixon said. "She's as sweet as a nut. There are three people I love: it's missus, the young master and her. Just those three. That's all, the rest be hanged."

"One would hardly call your master, 'young,'" Mrs. Thornton scoffed.

"I suppose the Master was born to marry the Missus," Dixon continued. "If I thought he loved her properly, I might get to love him in time. All he loved was reading, reading, thinking, and thinking. See what is has brought him to."

"So, who is the young master then?" Mrs. Thornton asked. None of Dixon's rambling made any sense.

Dixon did not respond to that question. Instead, she said to Mrs. Thornton, "the fires have not been lit in the Drawing Room. No use burning all that wood, I say. I will show you into the study instead." She then led Hannah into Mr. Hale's study. The packing crates there were full of books all ready for the auction, and set to one side. The furniture was still in place. "That is the best part of the room," Dixon said, pointing to the chair closest to the fireplace.

Dixon then took a pen and a sheet from Margaret's notebook on the desk to give to Mrs. Thornton, to write the note to Martha. Hannah noticed a leather-bound book- Plato's The Republic, and an envelope addressed to Barbour and Company, Cadiz, Spain on the desk. She moved them to one side and sat down to pen the quick note. She gave it to Dixon, who f received it and tucked it into the pocket of her apron.

"If you excuse me, ma'am, Miss Hale will be here shortly," Dixon curtseyed, and left to meet Margaret.

Dixon met Margaret coming up the stairs, trying to balance the tea tray on one hand, and not trip over her skirts. "What is she doing here? I thought Fanny Watson was coming?" Margaret whispered tersely to Dixon.

"Please don't say that, Miss. I think it was very kind of Mrs. Thornton to come. Remember the mistress, God bless her soul, begged Mrs. Thornton to take care of you 'fore she passed," Dixon collected the tea tray from her and followed her up.

"But Mrs. Thornton hates me, and I for one cannot imagine spending three days in her….." Margaret continued and then looked up and noticed Mrs. Thornton at the door to the study, watching her and Dixon approaching.

"Oh!" Margaret said.

"I forgot to tell you. The Drawing Room was too cold, so I put her in the study instead," Dixon explained.

"Do you think she heard what I said?" Margaret asked.

"I cannot tell," Dixon replied. "She always has that look on face, I suppose."

Margaret came in, flustered. "Mrs. Thornton, I am sorry for keeping you. I did not….." She began to pat down her newly ironed skirts, a habit she'd developed to camouflage any moment of discomfort or embarrassment

Dixon followed her and placed the tea tray on the sideboard.

"My daughter will not be coming. I will escort to you to London, back to your family," Mrs. Thornton said, her face inscrutable. "She sent you this letter, explaining her reasons." She then handed over the scented floral patterned envelope to Margaret.

Margaret thanked Mrs. Thornton, opened and read the letter. Fanny had apologised and expressed her sadness at Margaret's loss, and then in the very next sentence, stated that happy circumstances beyond her control would prevent her for keeping Margaret's company, and so on.

Margaret placed the letter on her father's desk, on top of the Plato and envelope, and poured the tea for herself and Mrs. Thornton. She then sat in her father's armchair, as far away as she could from Mrs. Thornton without appearing impolite. "Thank you again, ma'am, for coming," she said. She knew she should be grateful that this woman decided to escort her to London, but they always seemed to rub each other the wrong way.

" _Three days_ ," Margaret thought, " _three days, and Mrs. Thornton will be back in Milton._ "

Now, Margaret had written a letter to Frederick to inform him about their father's passing. She did not want to post the letter in London, because Aunt Shaw would have insisted that a footman run the errand on her behalf, and she stood the risk that anyone might see the address and guess his whereabouts.

"We were not expecting you till eleven o'clock. I have a small errand to run before we leave for London. I need to get to the post-office very soon," Margaret said to Mrs. Thornton, holding the envelope.

"It is snowing heavily outside, and it will take you a good half-hour at the very least, to get there and back," Mrs. Thornton said. "May I suggest that you wait till my son arrives, and we can then stop on the way to the station. The carriage will get you there faster."

"I won't be long. I am not afraid of the snow," Margaret said. "If you would excuse me." She rose abruptly, and then left the room. Mrs. Thornton just shook her head. "That girl will never listen to me," she said to herself.

Margaret came back into the study, less than a minute later. "It is snowing heavily outside," she announced. "I will wait for Mr. Thornton to arrive, and perhaps we can stop on the way to the station," she stated, almost as if Hannah had not just said the same words, verbatim.

In that instant, Hannah began to regret agreeing to this excursion to London. She rolled her eyes heavenwards, and offered a silent prayer for a double portion of patience and forbearance for the next three days and nights. She was definitely going to need it.

…

* * *

.

Thornton arrived at Crampton ten minutes late that morning, because he had first stopped by the post office on his way there. He was determined to protect Margaret from Dickenson, even if he never got to marry her. Therefore, he penned a letter to the rogue to ward him off Margaret, or threaten to expose his falsehood to the Barbours. However, as soon as he handed the letter over to the post clerk, he had a change of heart, and he retrieved it. He decided to speak to Mrs. Shaw, as Margaret's de-jure guardian until she reached her majority, in the first instance, about his discovery before sending any letter. Besides, the aunt knew the rascal beforehand, and she might have better ideas on how to put a stop to this scandalous liaison. By the time he got to Crampton, the carriage was already loaded loaded up Margaret's trunk boxes and bags and everyone was ready to go.

"They are waiting for you in the study," Dixon informed Thornton.

He made his way there and found both ladies, attired in black, seated as far apart as possible. They both rose as he came into the room.

"I had to run an errand in town, and lost track of the time," he said to them, apologizing for his tardiness. The backlog of work at the mill had increased over the past three weeks when he went to Le Havre and Helstone. He had not been able to achieve much since returning, and he was now about to take a few more days out, to travel to London and Oxford on personal matters.

"Mr. Thornton, I want to give you this book of Papa's. I thought you might like it," Margaret said, handing over the leather-bound book she placed on her father's desk.

He blinked slowly and swallowed hard. He did not expect to receive anything from her. "Plato….thank you. I will treasure it, as I will your father's memory. He was a good friend to me," Thornton took it from her and brushed her fingers. He ran his hand across the leather bound volume in a smooth caress, and tucked it under his arm. It took all the willpower he could muster to not pull her into his embrace and comfort her. Well, willpower and his mother's glare, but that did not stop the smile that creeping on his face.

"We have to be going now," he said and they filed out of the study, down the hallway, and out of the house to the carriage. Margaret stopped at the door, to say her goodbyes to Dixon, whilst the Thorntons walked ahead to the carriage.

"Thank you, Mother. A thousand times, thank you," he whispered to his mother. "I cannot imagine how difficult this must be for you."

She patted his arm and whispered back to him, "I suppose it must be difficult for her too. She detests me. You can see it in her eyes. I even heard her complaining to the maid, but son, I gave you my word that I will try my best to be patient with her. I will hold my tongue, and not poke my nose where it is not wanted. Three days, and all this fuss will be over."

"Not a day more," he said and helped her into the carriage. He then reached for his travelling bag that had already been loaded in the carriage, and opened the clasp and tucked the _Plato_ amongst his shirts, and snapped the clasp shut.

"Well, she'd better hurry up with her goodbyes, if she wants to get to the post office before noon, to post a letter abroad," Mrs. Thornton said.

"Post office? Abroad?" Thornton asked. "But…"

"Yes sir," Margaret said as she came towards them. "May we drop by the post office? I have to send my letter here in Milton…... It is very important, and it can't wait."

…

* * *

.

The carriage soon stopped at the post office, and Thornton opened the door and stepped out on to the pavement. The snow had crystalized. He crunched the snow beneath his feet to steady himself, straightened his large frame, and turned to Margaret.

"May I please have your letter? Do you wish to send it off on standard postage rate?" he asked and gestured for the envelope that Margaret clutched in one hand.

"You do not have to trouble yourself sir. I promise that I won't take long, but I prefer to send it by express post, at the counter," Margaret said, and followed him out of the carriage, still holding on to the letter.

"Surely, you can entrust him with the safety of your missive. You do not need to go as well. We are already running behind," Mrs. Thornton muttered irritably to Margaret's back.

Thornton shot his mother a pleading look. "It's all my fault. I arrived ten minutes late; and you know how she cherishes her independence," he said quietly. "All right then," Mrs. Thornton sighed, "Just shut the door. The cold is getting in."

By this time, Margaret had already taken several steps ahead, treading gingerly through the slosh. Thornton shut the carriage door and quickly followed after and reached her. Some parts of the pavement had fresh snowfall over the melted slosh and black ice, thereby making it slippery and treacherous.

"Please take my arm. The path is slippery, and I will not want you to come to harm," he said.

"Thank you, but that will not be necessary. It's just a little smattering of snow here and there. I will be fine," she said confidently. A few seconds and just one step later, she slipped and found herself flying through the air and landing heavily on her behind in the road, and the letter flew out of her hand.

She yelped. Thornton rushed and knelt down next to her, and instinctively moved to brush the snow from her back, but stopped himself in time. _This was the riot all over again, only that this time it was taking place on Milton High Street in view of the whole world and his wife_. "Great God…., Marg…Miss Hale…are you hurt…are you in pain?.…."

"My dented pride….and some bruises in a few choice places will be my reward for my efforts," she winced and managed to laugh weakly.

"I need to put my arm around your waist to help you up. Is that all right, and will you hold on to me now?" Thornton asked, and hesitated, "…and please let me know if you still feel sore afterwards," he added with some redness staining his cheeks.

Margaret grimaced and nodded. He lifted her up and steadied her on her feet and then bent down to pick the letter and tucked it under his arm. She brushed the snowflakes off her skirts, and turned round for him to indicate where she had missed. They both noticed that they had drawn some attention, and were confident that by tomorrow night, all of Milton would have heard more salacious versions of the incident.

He offered his free arm to her, and she wrapped both hands around his elbow for better stability and they both carefully make their way to the post office door. This was the closest he had ever come to her for such a sustained period, and he wanted to savour every second of it. He pulled his arm into his body thereby bringing her closer to his side and smiled at her.

"Argh….." Margaret groaned as she stumbled on an uneven patch. "It seems I will never have a good reputation in this town. You must be relieved that I'm leaving Milton before I humiliate you any further."

"Never mind. You are under no obligation to accept me," he said, and regretted it the moment the words fell out of his mouth. "I should not have said that. I apologise," he added at once.

"Will you forgive me for all that happened that day?" she asked. "I put you in danger, and was cruel you afterwards. I wish things had been different between us. You have been good to me despite all that had happened. I am not worthy of all this…."

"No, you will never be unworthy to me," he replied. "If only we had learnt to overcome our differences in time…"

"If there was any animosity between us, the blame was largely mine," Margaret said

"Largely?" Thornton queried

"Entirely," Margaret replied

"I cannot let you take all the blame for our difficulties. My northern ways were unfamiliar to you, but your father was my friend, and I think if we so desire, perhaps we can become friends too," Thornton said.

"I will like that very much," she replied.

"May I write to you in London? As your father's friend, just like Mr. Bell would," he quickly added to quell any misgivings about the impropriety of his request. Many a reputation had been destroyed by little notes getting into the wrong hands.

"Yes sir. I look forward to it," she said. "…And you may call me by my Christian name."

"I will. Thank you…..Margaret…"he said and beamed.

They soon reached the front of the queue at the post office counter, and as he was about to hand over the letter to her to pass to the post clerk, he glanced at the envelope and saw the address…to Barbour and Company in Cadiz, Andalucia, Spain, with a tiny FD written in the top left hand corner. He almost dropped it as if he had handled a chunk of hot coal. He swiftly placed it on the counter and pushed it across to clerk, and placed a half sovereign coin on the envelope to pay for the postage.

" _This trip is destined to be torture_ ," he told himself.

And as his mother had said "…three days, and it will soon be over"

The post clerk recognized the address from Thornton's earlier visit that morning, and began to remark to him, "….. I see that you decided to post your letter after all….." but the scowl he received from Thornton made him clamp his mouth shut. Margaret frowned and wondered what the clerk was talking about, and then shrugged it off. " _Typical, to assume that a letter to a foreign company had to be written by a man,"_ she concluded.

As soon as the letter was posted, Thornton rushed Margaret out to the carriage. "We have to hurry," he said sharply. Margaret was surprised to see his cold demeanour had returned.

The carriage turned and twisted down the streets at speed to get to the station, and every bump and jolt they encountered gave Margaret a thoroughly sore ride following her recent fall. At one stage, she emitted a small unladylike groan and Thornton head spun towards her. "Are you all right?" he asked. She nodded but could not trust herself to say a word. She blinked back tears and clamped her quivering lower lip between her teeth to stop herself from crying out in pain. She then lowered her head and stared into her lap to avoid his scrutiny.

Margaret prayed fervently that they would not miss the train.

She would not wish to cross the Thorntons.

13


	7. Chapter 7 - From Milton to London

Chapter Seven – From Milton to London

* * *

Southbound Train to London

They got to the train station with twelve minutes to spare. The station terminal was teeming with people, arriving at and departing from Milton, people meeting passengers alighting from the trains; or saying their goodbyes to others travelling northbound to Glasgow, eastbound to Liverpool, westbound to York, or southbound to Birmingham and London; vendors selling newspapers, porters wheeling boxes, crates and luggage and businessmen with briefcases and broadsheets folded underneath their arms.

Hannah and Margaret stood, side by side, on the platform whilst Thornton stood several feet away to oversee the station porters and the carriage drivers load Margaret's trunk boxes into the luggage compartment. Margaret cast a quick glance at him, and saw that his mood remained sour. She could not make any sense of his annoyance, as they did not miss the train after all. Perhaps it had nothing to do with her, she reasoned, but in her mind she was doubtful. Everything that upset this man always seemed to have something to do with her. It was as if anytime she made some headway in mending her relationship with him, some misunderstanding seemed to creep up again to destabilise an already fragile intercourse. A solitary tear dropped onto her cheeks and she wiped it off with her gloved hand.

Nevertheless, she could not by admire the masterful way in which he seemed to command the porters, with a nod, a tilt of his chin, or a raised eyebrow, but rarely with any words. This man was clearly a master, used to being in charge of two hundred workers, and everyone seemed to want to obey him and be in his favour. Standing on the platform, she could observe Thornton, unobtrusively, in broad daylight, and not sidelong in the low lantern lights of her father's study. Thankfully, those piercing blue eyes had made her uneasy to face him of late, without blushing or blurting out something nonsensical, were narrowed disapprovingly on one porter that had bumped one trunk box against the edge of compartment threshold. "Sorry sir," all the porters said in unison.

This powerful face before her was breathtakingly handsome, but then she had always known that. She began to take his features to memory, his strong aquiline nose, angular jawline, square chin, jet-black hair, impeccably trimmed sideburns, chiseled cheekbones, and the sharp lines of his eyebrows; and she found herself smiling, and the same time feeling the heat creeping up on her face at the memory of that handsome face next to hers when he helped her up at the post office, twenty minutes ago.

"He is so handsome, is he not? ….Admired and respected by everyone," Hannah whispered into her ear, gesturing towards Thornton. Margaret had forgotten that Mrs. Thornton was present, and was even more mortified to realise that Hannah had been watching her. She should have been mourning a beloved father, and not ogling a handsome former suitor. She squeezed her eyes shut and lifted her hands to tug the edges of her bonnet down and hide her red-hot face.

Hannah continued, "He had just returned from Le Havre when your father died, and had been at your place almost every day for hours on end, wanting to see you, but Dixon said you were not receiving anyone. He has had to work late into the night just to catch up on the orders."

Margaret turned and faced Hannah and replied, "I did not know that he'd come that often. I only saw him once, the day before yesterday. He must be exhausted."

"If he would only be kind to himself, as he is to those he loves, whether they deserve it or not….." Hannah said.

Margaret knew Mrs. Thornton was referring to the way she had behaved when Hannah came to query her about her perceived indiscretions. At the time, she was not certain that Frederick was safe, so she could not confess to Mrs. Thornton; so she did what she knew best whenever she was cornered- she stalked off in annoyance.

Out of the corner of her eye, Margaret saw the familiar figure of Police Inspector Mason approaching them. She first met him when he came to Crampton to question her about her whereabouts on the night that Frederick and Leonards had had the altercation at Outwood Station, and she had lied to him. She panicked, and instinctively moved closer to Mrs. Thornton, seeking protection, quite irrational, as though Hannah could give her immunity from the long arm of the law.

Margaret said quietly and hurriedly, "Mrs. Thornton, thank you for escorting me back to London," and reached and touched Hannah's arm. She felt Mrs. Thornton recoil at her touch, so moved her hand away, but she still stood her ground, very close to Hannah and continued. "I also wish to apologise for my manner the last time I saw you, to say you meant kindly."

Hannah had been taken completely by surprise that the girl could get off her high horse to apologise. She reached and took Margaret's hand in hers, and held on to it. "Miss Hale, I'm glad you vindicate me. I'd always desired to be a friend to you. I'm glad you do me justice."

"Good morning, Mrs. Thornton,….and Miss Hale of Crampton," Mason said, as he reached them. "It would seem we would all be travelling on the same train. I'm going to London myself….and accept my condolences for your loss, Miss Hale of Crampton," he added, with emphasis on the way the grocer's assistant had described her to the police.

Margaret did not respond, but linked her arm into Hannah's, like old friends, and stared hard at her feet. Hannah sensed that there was something cryptic in Mason's communication; plus something about the way Margaret clung to her was reminiscent of what Fanny would do whenever she was terrified of something – horses, ghosts, thunderstorms. Hannah protective instinct came to the fore.

"Miss Hale is in mourning. We will not wish to keep you long, Inspector," Hannah said, prompting Mason to leave them. "Good day," he said, bowed, and moved along the platform, towards Thornton.

They both watched Mason depart, and Margaret pulled her arm out of Hannah's and let out the breath she had been holding on to. "Bless him." Hannah said. "He used to be John's clerk before he joined the Force. John recommended him for the position, but I did not realise that you were acquainted with the Inspector?"

"He…..he…..he came to..…..," Margaret said, visibly flustered.

"You are clearly troubled about something that Mason may be hinting at. I did make a vow to myself not to poke my nose in your matters, but definitely against my better judgement, if I may, I would advise that you confide in someone you can trust, your family perhaps, on whatever it is that distresses you," Hannah said.

"Unfortunately, I cannot disclose this particular matter to my aunt or my cousin. Something that Dixon said to me has made me come to realise, perhaps belatedly, that the very person that I should not have concealed my troubles from now hates me," Margaret said.

"My son does not hate you, Miss Hale," Hannah laughed.

"I was referring to you, Mrs. Thornton. My mother implored you to counsel me as you would your own daughter. You did your part, but I did not reciprocate, and I am truly sorry. I know you meant well when you came to see me, to offer your assistance," Margaret said.

"I must admit that I was surprised that you consented to let us escort you to London," Mrs. Thornton said. "In the past whenever we'd offered help, you'd declined it. You would not even accept the carriage we sent for your mother's funeral."

"We did not want to trouble you then, and no discourtesy was meant by it. You are our only friends in Milton," Margaret said. "It was just that I had had so many disagreements with Mr. Thornton at the time and I was certain that you both despised me."

"No, I do not despise you," Hannah replied. "I love my son, but you did not value his good nature and kind heart. You broke his heart, yet he loved you still, and loved your family. When your father died, he wanted to help…to be the one to comfort you. He would not have it any other way." Hannah cast a sidelong glance at her to gauge her reaction to this. Margaret coloured and looked away and started to pick on some imaginary fluff on her coat. Hannah chuckled inwardly and had a satisfied countenance on her face.

"Mr. Thornton is very kind. My father esteemed him greatly, but I am debased in his eyes," Margaret said.

"Perhaps then you could tell me what happened back there in the post office to make him so cross?" Hannah queried. Margaret gasped.

Thornton reached them as soon as the luggage was loaded. "Mother, Margaret, our train departs shortly," he gestured, and the station porter opened the door to the compartment. Margaret moved sharply away from him and got onboard, and Mrs. Thornton followed. Thornton pulled at his mother's elbow as she got to the door, and leaned into her and whispered tersely, "What have you done? What did you say to her?"

"I should be asking you the same question. What happened back there at the Post Office?" Hannah asked. "Damn," he muttered the oath in response.

* * *

The carriage was almost full, and they found seats near the rear, and close to the train conductor's cabin. Margaret and Hannah sat next to each other, and Thornton sat facing them. Margaret winced as she sat down on the tough leather seats. The ever-attentive Thornton noticed, and he leaned over and whispered something to his mother. Mrs. Thornton nodded, and then reached into her bag and brought out a thick woolen shawl, folded it and formed into a cushion.

"Here, Miss Hale," she said gently, "You may find this pillow should ease your discomfort on the train. These seats are hard. John told me of your accident at the Post Office."

Margaret's eyes brimmed with tears and she received the makeshift cushion from Mrs. Thornton and sat upon it. It did ease her pain. "Thank you, ma'am, for your kindness.…..and please call me Margaret," she said; "and thank you sir," she added quietly to Thornton. He gave a curt nod and looked away.

….

* * *

They rode on in silence. Thornton was reading a newspaper, Mrs. Thornton was knitting a scarf, and Margaret was looking out of the window at the changing scenery. Occasionally, mother and son talked about the mill, and Margaret listened with rapt attention, in admiration that Mrs. Thornton understood the business almost as much as her son, and that he seemed to value her opinion on business matters. Margaret felt her chest swell with pride that a woman such as Hannah could hold her own in a man's world.

After some time, both Margaret and Hannah dozed off.

The train stopped at Birmingham, where the regional lines branched off to Oxford and Cardiff, and several passengers alighted from, or joined the carriage. The shrill sound of the train whistle jarred Margaret awake, and she caught Thornton staring at her. He coloured instantly and raised his newspaper up to shield his face. Hannah was still sleeping.

"Mr. Thornton," she started, and he lowered his paper, "I apologise for what happened at the post office," she continued. "I did not mean to imply that you could not have posted the letter for me. It is just that I felt you had gone to so much trouble to get me to London already, and I did not want to bother you with every small errand. It had been snowing heavily all morning, and I could not get to the post office earlier. I am sorry that it was such a mad rush to get to the station."

"We did not miss the train," he replied. "And about your letter, whomever you choose to write to is of no concern to me. I would not want to intrude on your privacy in any case," he stated in a clipped tone.

Margaret frowned. Why would Mr. Thornton take umbrage to a letter addressed to a company in Spain? She had thought he was upset that she almost made them miss the train. Insufferable man!

He was not sure how to bring up the pressing matter that bothered him so he exhaled deeply, and cleared his throat, and decided to just say it. "I heard that Leonards came from Helstone. Were you acquainted with him before you came to Milton?" he asked with a feigned air of indifference.

"No, I was not, but Dixon was. She knew his father," Margaret replied.

He nodded. "…..and your companion?"

"I don't think so. I'm not sure," she replied.

He studied her quietly to see if she would continue to hide beneath that calm exterior, but instead she shifted uncomfortably, leaned back as if she could disappear into the seat.

"Why then did Leonards attack him?" he asked and paused for a moment and continued, "…or, let me see,…..could it be you that he was after?"

When he saw that no response was forthcoming, he folded his paper in a deliberate manner and laid it on the seat beside him and continued, "Miss Hale, Margaret, it seems to me too much of a coincidence that someone from Helstone would pick you at random to accost, and in such a public place."

Margaret gave a long sigh, sat up straight and clasped her hands in her lap. She lifted her chin and looked him squarely in the face and said, "Mr. Thornton, I have gone too far for concealment. It may not make much of difference now because you have seen me at my worst, and you must surely be relieved that you were not attached to me, but I cannot go to London and let you continue to think ill of me."

From her seat, she could see through the glass window into the train conductor's cabin, and saw Inspector Mason speaking with the conductor. Thornton sat facing her, and did not see what she saw. She looked down at her hands and continued, "…But there is something I have to tell you...about him….about that night….I….you see….."she faltered as she went on and her courage began to ebb away.

"Let us not beat about the bush. I know everything…..ev-e-ry-thing.." he emphasized with his hands in a chopping motion in rhythm to every syllable. He then leaned across to her and added, "…..about Leonards, and even about Frederick Dickenson from Cadiz," he said and leaned back into his seat, and folded his arms across his chest to watch her reaction.

Her head shot up in alarm. He raised a quizzical eyebrow and his lips had twisted into a smirk.

"Did Papa tell you?" she cried and quickly lowered her voice in case they were overheard, but saw they were now alone in the compartment. "Did Papa tell you?" she leaned forward and whispered in order not to rouse Mrs. Thornton, "Or was it Mr. Bell?"

He frowned. He was surprised that Bell and Hale knew Dickenson, and then reasoned that they probably did know him through Mrs. Shaw in London, but may not have known he may have been seducing Margaret in secret. "No, I met a gentleman named Paxman, James Paxman ….," he replied.

"The draper….from Helstone?….." Margaret said with a furrowed brow.

"Yes, that one. I went there, to Helstone," he said, "On my way back from Le Havre, and I met him at the station purely by chance, and he told me everything….," he signified, waving his hand in a half-circle.

"Good Lord," her jaw dropped and she brought up both her hands to cover her mouth.

Thornton continued, "….he mentioned Leonards, and then he spoke about your family, telling me all manner of things; me, a complete stranger to him, and without knowing the level of my acquaintance with you. He talked of the dissent, and the scandal…..no, his actual words were treachery and mutiny…..a traitor of the blackest dye, and a disgrace to his profession…." Thornton added with a small snort.

"Ah….so….he told you that," she said quietly. Her shoulders drooped and she gave a deep sigh. "Well, Mr. Thornton, you now know our troubles. We were able to escape all the gossip when we came to Milton. No one knew us there," Margaret said.

"My family know what it feels like to be the object of gossip too, so I am familiar with the sentiments," Thornton replied.

"Your father….." Margaret said quietly.

He nodded towards his sleeping mother, "The lot fell to Mother and I to repair the taint to the Thornton name and reputation. We lived with the shame and the gossip for so many years. You soon become acquainted with the look of pity and of fear from all and sundry; you hear the loud whispers, and you see the pointing in the street; the silence when you enter a crowded room and the noise when you leave it, with the certainty that the strangers that you had just met will promptly be acquainted with your story, almost as soon as your back was turned. We kept to ourselves. It was a lot to bear. Overwhelming at times."

Margaret turned to regard Mrs. Thornton for a few moments. Hannah's usual stern face had softened and looked handsome in repose. It was evident from whom Thornton not only got his looks, but his strong and loyal character. Hannah Thornton had clearly survived a battle with debt and disgrace following her husband's suicide, and had come up triumphant.

"It must have been a very difficult time for her," Margaret said quietly. She could not imagine that her mother or Aunt Shaw would have been able to cope with such difficulties, and in similar circumstances.

"Yes, it was," he said. "With a teenage son and an infant daughter in tow, we had to retrench to the outskirts of Milton for a few years, until we could repay our creditors and remove the stench of it all. Even then, I sometimes worry that some of the past odour may still linger. Scandal, you see, has such a long memory, but I owe my success largely to my mother."

Thornton noticed the look of admiration and respect on Margaret's face as she looked at his mother, and saw a vision of a future that he would also dream to have; for these two women to some day grow to love one another. "Do not despair, some reputation can be restored, even from the most difficult of situations, no matter what Paxman or all of Helstone may say," he added reassuringly.

Mr. Thornton, there is one thing that puzzles me though, how…...how did Mr. Paxman know that Frederick was in Cadiz?" Margaret asked for if Fred's cover had blown, she would have to alert him.

"I actually met Dickenson in Le Havre. He was representing Barbour and Company,….." Thornton said.

"You met him? In France? Oh my goodness. Was he well?" Margaret asked, leaned across and reached out her hand on impulse to grab Thornton's hand. The train kept jostling and Margaret was in danger of losing her balance, so Thornton patted the seat beside him. "Come, sit here, next to me." She gave a quick glace at Mrs. Thornton, and saw she was still fast sleep, so she took the cushion with her, and moved across to join him.

He took her hand in his, and turned his palm upwards to face her palm and hold her hand in place, and then ran his thumb to and fro across her the back of her knuckles stroking every finger with tenderness as he decided to deliver the bad news to her and said, "He denied all knowledge of you, and of ever coming to Milton or even been in the country."

"Of course he would…he would have to," Margaret sighed.

"I suppose such situations will have to remain concealed," Thornton said, irritated that Margaret would wish to continue such a liaison, but then reasoned that it was probably because she did not know that Dickenson was married. He debated whether it was right to tell her the man had a Spanish wife and would never make her an offer, but reasoned that a public place was perhaps not the right setting to disclose the kind of news that would upset her. He considered that it might even be preferable if she could save face, and never let her know that he was aware that she had had a liaison with a married man. Therefore, he decided to be silent on the matter.

"Perhaps it is best we don't even talk about him now. Walls have ears, even in trains," Margaret said. "He is lost to me, but he is all I have left now…no one else."

"He has made a new life for himself in Spain, but be rest assured, you are not all alone. You still have your aunt, your cousin, Mr. Bell…..and if I may say, you still have my friendship," Thornton said, _and my heart,_ he added silently. "You still have my friendship, and my promise to look out for you if you ever need it."

"From what I hear, you are the one that needs care. Your mother said you'd hardly slept in the past week," Margaret replied.

"You could always write to find out if I am being well looked after," he said.

"I have to warn you. I am an avid letter writer. You will get a lot of letters from me, and I look forward to your replies," Margaret said.

"And so you shall, though I fear your family will surely object to our liaison," he said. "A tradesman writing to a lady."

"A gentleman, you mean. But so will she," Margaret said and nodded towards Hannah. "I am too spirited for her liking, and I have some friends that she objects to, like Nicholas and Mary."

"She may seem stern, but she is truly kind hearted," Thornton said.

Margaret said. "I just seem to rub her off the wrong way. I wish it were not so."

"You both riled one other in the past I must admit, but it will all be well you'll see. She doesn't hold grudges," Thornton replied.

A battle raged in Thornton, an argument, between his heart, his mind and his body.

Instinct wanted him to lower his lips onto hers and kiss her.

Commonsense warned him against such reckless presumption.

Instinct argued that this moment was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

Commonsense told him they were not alone, and could be seen.

Commonsense prevailed, for he looked up from their entwined fingers, and saw his mother staring at them, with her jaw dropped wide open. Margaret's head also came up and turned to see Mrs. Thornton.

Before Hannah could say a word, Margaret pulled her hand from Thornton's grasp and returned to her seat beside his mother, her dainty hands forming a hood over her eyes, and wishing for the ground to open up and swallow her whole.

"How long have you been watching?" Thornton asked Hannah.

"How long had I been asleep?" Hannah asked, eyes darting from Thornton to Margaret and back, and they both turned crimson.

….

13


	8. Chapter 8 - Going home to Harley Street

Chapter Eight – Going home to Harley Street

* * *

Euston Station, London

Thornton left the ladies on the platform, and went out to look for a cab to take them to Harley Street. He saw Henry Lennox just outside the station, and for the first time in his life, he found his height and towering presence, a disadvantage, for the insufferable man spotted him immediately and came towards him.

"Ah, I found you, Thornton," Lennox said. "Thank you for bringing our dear Miss Hale home. I would have come for her to save you the trouble, but …..well, here you are."

For Thornton, this was the last person he wanted to see, for he was about to leave Margaret in this annoying man's company and lose her for sure. One part of him wanted to bundle Margaret back onto the northbound train, and take her back to his home. The second part of him made up his mind then and there to find a way to tell her that he still loved her before he left for Milton. He only needed to find a way to engineer a private audience with her in the next three days, in unfamiliar territory, and away from the scrutiny of the snobbish aunt and cousin.

Lennox snapped his fingers twice to summon his driver to follow them into the station to collect the luggage. Thornton and Lennox then left him by the luggage trolley to meet Margaret and Mrs. Thornton.

Thornton was momentarily lost in his thoughts, and when he came to, Lennox was still talking beside him, and he just caught the last part of his speech. "…. baby boy six days ago….…Sholto after our father. It's Gaelic," the proud uncle was saying.

"Margaret and Mrs. Thornton saw the two men begin to make their way towards them. "Ah…it seems my aunt has sent Henry to fetch us to Harley Street. Mr. Bell calls him the 'cleaver' barrister," she said with a small chuckle to Mrs. Thornton.

"He must be a rival for your affections then, for that look on John's face screams it out like a town crier," Mrs. Thornton replied. "As soon as you make your choice, one of them shall be put out of their misery."

Margaret rolled her eyes. "There is no choice to be made. Henry is just a friend, and Mr. Thornton no longer cares for me in that way that you are implying. He told me so himself," she said.

"And you believe that? Child, action speaks louder than words,….…" said Mrs. Thornton. Margaret wanted to ask more, but by that time, the men had reached them.

Lennox offered his condolence to Margaret. "Dear Margaret," he continued, "Would you do me the honour and introduce me to ….Mrs. Watson, I presume?"

"No, Henry, this is Mrs. Thornton," and turning to Hannah, she said, "Mr. Henry Lennox, is my cousin Edith's brother-in-law," Margaret said.

"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, madam," Lennox bowed to Hannah. "I met your husband at the Exhibition in the summer. He was very knowledgeable about cotton."

"Thornton is my son," Hannah stated evenly.

"I beg your pardon," Lennox said, "It's just that you look so young, and I daresay, remarkably handsome." Mrs. Thornton blushed deeply, and Thornton scowled first at Lennox for flirting with his mother; and then at his mother, who was usually immune to men's advances, now responding to Lennox's compliments; and that made him so cross, and so he moved to separate his mother from Lennox. He could also see Margaret almost doubling over in laughter at him….the first smile on her face since she learnt of her father's death.

Mrs. Thornton arched up an eyebrow at him, and nodded towards Margaret, but he could not really understand what his mother was trying to tell him. He was still cross.

"Miss Hale, may I?" Lennox offered his arm to escort Margaret to the carriage. Thornton then understood that Lennox had distracted him from Margaret by flirting with his mother. He looked at his mother and saw her roll her eyes and shake her head at him. "Come now, John. Do not win the battle and lose the war. The man distracts opponents for a living," she whispered to him.

"But do you think she would ever choose me over him?" Thornton asked.

"You are the man. You have the advantage of choice. She only has the power of refusal," Hannah replied.

"Did you just quote a line from one of Fanny's novels?1" Thornton teased, knowing she had always referred to reading romantic novels as frivolous pastimes. Hannah slapped him on the arm, "….just pay attention."

"We did promise to write to one another," he said.

"She is in mourning for two parents. Etiquette will demand at least six months before she can be courted," Hannah said.

"That long? I was going to write next week," he said. "Six months….hmm"

…

* * *

.

The carriage trudged through the snow from Euston station and soon approached Mrs. Shaw's impressive Regency style townhouse in Harley Street.

"We are home. The house was designed by James Langston, an apprentice of John Nash, who designed The State Rooms at Buckingham Palace, Regent's Park, and the Royal Mews," Lennox stated proudly. "I stay here during the week, but I keep my own rooms at Grosvenor Square."

"I see that all the houses identical, ….and all in white. Did he design the whole street then?" Thornton asked.

"Yes, only externally though. The Ionic capitals on the columns framing the front porch are the classical orders from the Continent, and the French windows on the first floor with the bowed balconies of filigree architectural metalwork were…." Lennox prattled on, like a tour guide at a museum.

"You mean you lived here….in this house?," Mrs. Thornton said to Margaret.

"Yes. This was my home for nine months of the year, for ten years, from the time I was nine. I then went home to Helstone for the summer whilst Edith and Aunt Shaw toured Europe," Margaret replied. "I left London after Edith's wedding, and she and the Captain left to join his regiment in Corfu."

"It is grand and very beautiful," Thornton said, still admiring the house.

Lennox said to Thornton, "This is a regular townhouse here in London. It has at least ten bedrooms, a library, several sitting rooms, and a nursery. The servants' quarters' is in the basement and the nanny's flat is in the attic. I doubt if you have you ever seen one like it in Milton?"

"You are grossly mistaken. We do have large houses at home. Mr. Thornton's house in Marlborough Mills is grand and elegant as well," Margaret defended. "I was there for the annual Masters' dinner."

Both Thorntons looked at Margaret in surprise, and then looked at each other, their eyebrows raised. Unknown to her, Margaret had just scored a big point in cultivating Mrs. Thornton's good opinion.

"I beg your pardon," Lennox said, "No offence was intended by it."

Lennox and Thornton stepped out of the carriage, and both turned to help the ladies out. As Lennox offered his hand to Margaret, Mrs. Thornton rose first and took his arm, leaving Thornton to help Margaret out of the carriage. Lennox decided to ignore the manoeuvre. The Thorntons were going to be in London for three days and will soon leave Margaret all to him; and then he can woo her to his heart's content. He just needed to be patient and not alert them to his suit.

As they made their way up the marbled steps to the front door, Thornton leaned and whispered into Margaret ear, "….we? Milton? Did you mean what you said back there…that you saw Milton as your home?"

"It is the home I can call mine," she replied.

"You do know that my house is nothing compared to your Aunt's house," he said

"It may not be, but it is grand and elegant all the same," Margaret said.

"Thank you," he said, his voice deepened. "Perhaps some day, you can advise me on how to add some homely touches to it, like you had in your house at Crampton. Remember, you promised to take care of me."

"I did n….. Mr. Thornton, are you flirting with me?" Margaret asked.

"I would not know how to flirt," he leaned and whispered into her ear, his sideburns brushing her cheek, "I always say what I mean."

Margaret's face and neck had warmed into a deep scarlet by the time they reached the door.

…

* * *

..

A footman attired in livery bearing old General Shaw's personal insignia opened the door to let them in, and took their coats, hats and gloves. Margaret and Lennox waited by the porch to direct the footman and carriage driver handling the trunk boxes. Thornton and Hannah went in and stood in the grand hallway, to wait for the butler to welcome them and lead them to their rooms.

The opulence and elegance of their surroundings surpassed any home that the Thorntons had ever been in. The grand staircase with dark walnut balustrades, the wallpaper, wall hangings, drapes, furniture and portraits all oozed luxury. The décor was in hues of white and beige and gold, and the ceilings were at least twelve feet high. The gilded chandeliers and matching uplighters underneath the friezes were sculpted with Italianate villa style reliefs that Mrs. Shaw must have seen on her many travels to the Continent.

"Fanny would have loved to see this," Hannah said to her son.

"Mother, I…I don't think I could take her away from this now…... I had no idea that the aunt was this wealthy…..." Thornton said.

"You are a good man. Your fortunes will revive. If she truly loved you, she will have you," Hannah replied.

A middle-aged man with a proud deportment and stern expression approached them. He was not in uniform, but he wore a black long tailcoat and a starched white shirt, and a black tie.

"Carter, head butler at your service, sir, ma'am. Mrs. Shaw has gone out and should be on the way back home. The Captain and Mrs. Lennox are having their afternoon nap in their private quarters, and they will join you before dinner," he told them. "The bells in your sitting room are labeled for you to summon the maid, the valet or the footman at any time," his gruff voice ringing with authority.

"Carter….is that you?" Margaret said, as she and Lennox came in to the hallway.

"Welcome home, Miss Margaret," Carter said, and bowed deeply. "On behalf of the staff, please accept my condolences. We all remember meeting the Reverend Hale at the wedding."

"Thank you. The funeral will be held tomorrow, and Mr. Thornton will be travelling with Mr. Lennox and the Captain to Oxford," Margaret replied.

The butler bent down and then carried Thornton's carpetbag and led him to the guest chamber to the west side of the grand stairs.

The footman then led the ladies to Margaret and Edith's former rooms, in the east wing, which shared an adjoining private sitting room and washroom, and a housemaid was assigned to them.

"You are quite remarkable," Mrs. Thornton said to Margaret, "that you could have adapted to life in Crampton with just one maid and cook after having lived here, surrounded by all this splendour."

Margaret was about to retort something about her disdain for wanton opulence, and her preference for modesty, but decided it would not be wise to disagree with Mrs. Thornton's good opinion of her, which were so hard to come by.

…..

* * *

After Margaret and the Thorntons had freshened up and rested, they joined Joanna Shaw, the Captain, Edith, and Henry Lennox in the Drawing Room. Margaret ran into her cousin's and aunt's embrace and they all wept openly. All the pent-up grief poured out; no airs and graces, and no English stiff upper lip to temper their conduct despite the present company.

Margaret was soon to remain with her family, and witnessing John's anguish once again made Hannah wish things had turned out differently between them. She squeezed her son's arm and reassured him, "I will make sure that she knows how worthy you are before we leave. Who knows, we might even get her to love you."

Thornton gave a wry smile and shrugged, "…..and pigs might fly," he said.

Aunt Shaw thanked the Thorntons for bringing Margaret home. Hannah could tell that Joanna loved her niece very much and would have come to Milton had her only child not been in the middle of a difficult labour.

…

* * *

They settled down and waited for dinner to be announced.

"Margaret, I am really sorry for what happened to your parents," Aunt Shaw said. "The last time I saw your papa was at Edith's wedding, eighteen months back, and I can hardly believe that I am never to see him again."

"You know I'd never met even your mother. You may recall that she could not attend our wedding," the Captain said.

"Was Mrs. Hale ill before you came to Milton then?" Mrs. Thornton asked Margaret.

"Oh no, she was not ill at all," Margaret said, and immediately the words came out, she realised that she had said too much. Maria Hale had refused to attend Edith's wedding because she could not afford to obtain a new gown, and was embarrassed about her financial circumstances. The family had just assumed her absence was due to some affliction or ailment.

All eyes were on her. She had to think fast. She could not betray her mother's memory and reveal how much Maria had envied her sister's wealth and resented her own life as a country parson's wife.

"Who am I to presume to be a doctor?" Margaret laughed. "No one really knew how ill she was until it was too late. Mr. Thornton was very kind to bring fruits to her towards the end. It was the only thing she could eat." She turned to Thornton and said, "Thank you sir."

Thornton nodded and smiled. Margaret was clearly trying to present him in a very good light to her family. That had to give him hope. "On my next visit, I must remember to bring you the very best that the greengrocer has to offer," he said.

"We have the best orchards in the land around here," Aunt Shaw exclaimed, annoyed that Thornton could even suggest that Milton could ever have anything better to offer than in London. "Kent is the garden of England after all. Cook obtains our strawberries and apricots from Faversham, and the pears and apples come from Tenterden and Barming."

It was not lost on Lennox that Mrs. Shaw had not openly objected to the notion of Thornton, a tradesman, returning to visit Margaret in Harley Street _per se_. Perhaps it was an oversight, he hoped. _Three days_ , he reminded himself.

Edith winked at Margaret. "Come, Margaret, let us go for a turn about the room," and they linked arms and walked until they were out of earshot.

"Bringing fruit?" Edith chuckled to Margaret, "Is that what they call it in Milton, employing neither delicacy nor subtlety?"

"I don't know what you mean?" Margaret asked her cousin.

"Do you not? Do you have an understanding with Mr. Thornton?" Edith asked. "Mama thinks he will take you from Henry. He is a tradesman, and although he would pass for a proper gentleman to be sure, you have to know that you are his superior, in sense and situation." Edith said. "Are you in love with him?"

"Truly, he is Papa's friend and Mr. Bell's tenant. That is all," Margaret replied. "I will write to him, and I will be pleased to receive news of my friends in Milton, but I still do not see how that relates to fruit."

"Can you not see through his ruse to return here to visit you….….. Quite presumptuous, I say," Edith replied. On hearing this, Margaret whipped her head round to look at Thornton, and quickly turned away when she caught him staring at her, and hardly paying attention to Captain Lennox nattering away to him, about investing in cotton.

"You are a lady. You know that you shouldn't look back at a gentleman. Besides, you might get a crick in your neck," Edith admonished. "There goes the bell. Come, let us go in to dinner."

…

* * *

.

After a light dinner of warming winter vegetables soup, followed by a main course of roast woodcock, ducks a'la'monde and stewed mushrooms, and a dessert of lemon soufflé topped with elderflower flavoured cream, the party retired to the adjoining music room for after-dinner drinks.

Edith sat at the pianoforte to play some chamber music, and Margaret sat next to her on the bench, to turn the pages.

Henry, Maxwell, Thornton, Hannah and Joanna talked about travelling to the Continent.

"Mr. Thornton, what do you think of the French…I mean, following your dealings with them in Havre?" Maxwell asked. "We in the Royal Navy tend to leave the Merchant Navy to deal with trade matters, but I hear that they can be condescending."

"The Frenchman I met was shrewd and honourable; it was my fellow Englishman that I found unprincipled and dishonest," Thornton replied. "

"An unprincipled English tradesmen? He would never be anyone we would ever know," Aunt Shaw scoffed.

"On the contrary, the gentleman I'm thinking of is someone of your acquaintance, ma'am" Thornton said.

"I cannot imagine to whom you refer," said Aunt Shaw, visibly affronted.

"His name is Dickenson, Frederick Dickenson," Thornton said. He looked across the room and saw the look of absolute horror on both Margaret and Lennox's face, and realised that he must have made a _faux pas_. He clamped his mouth shut, but immediately surmised that perhaps, Lennox was a closer friend to Margaret than he had first thought, to know about Dickenson. His jealousy began to simmer to the surface.

Aunt Shaw looked genuinely puzzled. "I honestly do not know anyone by that name. Why…."

Lennox cut in and came to the rescue, and much to Margaret's relief. "Let us not ruin the effects of that delightful soufflé with this talk of boring foreign lands. Let us talk of our beautiful countryside in England, of places like Helstone, for instance," he said

Thornton's head spun, and his eyes darted from Henry to Margaret, seeking an explanation as to the degree of attachment between them.

"Have you been to Helstone then?" Mrs. Thornton asked.

"Yes, I spent a weekend at the Vicarage after the wedding," Lennox replied and smiled at Margaret. "Margaret had told me how beautiful and serene Helstone was, and I had to see it for myself, and I daresay she was right. Picture this, I found her lying on her back on the meadow under the shade of some weeping willows, staring up at the clouds and birds….."

Margaret gasped and prayed for the ground to open up and swallow her whole. _What must the Thorntons think of her and Henry_ , she thought, and ran her fingers across her eyes, stood up from the piano bench, and went to the sideboard to set down her glass of sherry.

Lennox's darting eyes were quick to notice Margaret's discomfiture, and the Thorntons' identical scowls at him.

The penny dropped.

" _Seriously,_ it is Thornton isn't it?" Lennox came behind her and whispered into her ears. "You could have told me you loved him and saved me from making a fool of myself _._ "

"Not you as well. Why would you something like say that?" she hissed back.

"It is written all over your face. I know, because I love you just like you love him," he said firmly. "A note of caution though, I received a letter from Frederick today, and I think you should read it first, and think carefully about the kind of man that you wish to give your heart to." He then reached into his breast pocket and produced a small envelope, and passed it to her discreetly. She took it and tucked it into her pocket to read later. "Please, be very careful with that letter. No one here knew that he was in town, and remember that Maxwell is in the Navy," Henry added.

"I'm sorry Henry. You have been a good friend, and I wish it to remain so, but I do not return your feelings," Margaret said. Indeed, she did not love this man who loved her, but the man she loved probably hated her now. Margaret turned round and looked at Thornton, and saw his eyes narrow disapprovingly at her. She then desperately sought Mrs. Thornton's eyes to tell her in some way that she was not attached to Henry, but was met with an impassive expression.

"Never mind," Lennox said to her. "It is hardly fair. I am outnumbered you see. He has his Mama to fight his corner. I would have needed Edith, Maxwell, Mother Shaw and even Baby Sholto in my corner to face them, and what a formidable pair they make….that look of thunder from Thor himself..….oh…and those scowls…ooooh…."he chuckled and made a mock shiver.

"Stop it, Henry," Margaret covered her mouth to stifle a giggle, and then elbowed him, much to Thornton and Hannah's consternation. "All right, I won't tease them," Lennox whispered back.

"Thank you," Margaret sighed with relief. The last thing she needed was for Henry to kindle Mr. Thornton's simmering temper.

"Perhaps the pair of you would care to share your joke with the rest of us," Thornton abruptly left Captain Lennox, and strode over to them and said but glared only at Margaret, who mouthed back to him, "sorry." Lennox excused himself at once and went to join with the rest of the party.

Thornton watched Lennox's retreating figure and his face softened in direct proportion to his distance from them. Though he was satisfied that he had separated the pair, he knew she would be cross with him so he decided to avoid her eyes that surely would be sparkling with anger at his rudeness.

He leaned over and whispered tersely, "how could you?…..Margaret, your father has not even been buried…..etiquette….. Should he be exchanging love notes with you just yet?" he said.

"It is not what you think, sir. May we speak in private?" Margaret whispered back. "Please, let us not fight over this."

"I thought we promised to write to each other. How can I presume to know your mind, to be misled again?" he asked, the tension discernible in his voice.

"I have not misled you sir. Besides, you told me that all your passion for me was over, remember," Margaret said to him.

He took a deep breath, straightened up, and pondered her words, and then he recalled his words to her in Crampton, _"…Do not think I intend to renew my attentions towards you. Any foolish passion I might have had for you is over…."_

Thornton shook his head and said, "Forgive me, but when I said those words, I'm afraid,…I lied. I lied."

Margaret stared, open-mouthed.

Thornton then moved away, almost as abruptly as he had come to her. "Mr. Thornton…Mr. Thornton," she called, but he kept walking away, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. He avoided his mother's glare, the curious glances of Aunt Shaw, Maxwell and Edith, the knowing smirk from Henry Lennox, and muttered his good night to everyone and left.

Margaret looked up and saw all eyes were now on her. She knew they had seen everything, but she could not tell if they had heard everything, or anything. "Excuse me, and good night," she said and raced out to go to her room.

Thornton went up to his room, rang the bell for the valet to request for some notepaper and envelope. He then sat down at the desk and wrote,

" _Dear Miss Hale…._.."

* * *

1 Quote taken from Jane Austen's Northanger Abbey. _"….in matrimony….._ _man has the advantage of choice, woman only the power of refusal…."_

10


	9. Chapter 9 - Half Secrets and Whole Lies

Chapter Nine – Half-Secrets and Whole Lies

…

* * *

.

Shaw Residence, Harley Street, London

Edith, Joanna, Maxwell and Henry were rendered speechless for a few moments after Thornton and Margaret made their exits. Each one searched the faces of the others for clarification of what they had just witnessed. Each face reflected the same response, bewilderment of sorts. But for Henry, it was one of irritation. He could not understand why that tradesman could still be angry after Margaret had made her preferences for him (Thornton) glaringly obvious. " _Insufferable_ _fellow_ ," he muttered to himself.

Mrs. Thornton's face spoke something else altogether. She was seething. Her boy, her serious-minded son had just created a spectacle for these snotty southerners, goaded by the girl who always made him lose his head to unreasonableness. He had remonstrated with Margaret in front of her family, and even though she was sure that no one heard what they were arguing about, the sharp whispers, the tension in their expressions, John's mainly, and the theatrics of the pair of them striding out of the room, with the hurried goodnights left no one there in any doubt that they had just witnessed a lover's tiff. The only problem was that these were not lovers. They did not even have an understanding.

This was the riot all over again, only this time round, it was John who had instigated this debacle. He should have left Margaret and Lennox alone, but no, he had to let his jealousy get the better of him. Her insides were churning.

"I will speak to the pair of them," Hannah said and rose steadily to her feet and made for the door.

"Please wait, Mrs. Thornton," Mrs. Shaw said, "I beg your pardon, but may I speak with you first? Edith will go and see to Margaret." Edith nodded and left the room. Mrs. Thornton followed Aunt Shaw to her study.

Henry looked round, and saw that the room was almost empty. He did not wish to be left in the room with his brother, for he knew Maxwell's curiousity was piqued, which would lead to conjectures, inquiries and most likely escalate into full-scale interrogation, a military-style grilling with that bulldog tenacity of his, particularly if he sensed that there was a secret lurking in the air. Henry had two options, well three – feign ignorance, mislead him, or tell him the truth. None of them seemed palatable without long-term repercussions. In any case, he would first have to consult Margaret before he could reveal what he knew.

In this instance, the stakes were too high, for it was not just about a fugitive of the Crown, but rather that Maxwell's beloved wife, Edith and her mother had kept the Hale family secret from him. He could be unreasonable if he felt was being kept in the dark, thereby jeopardizing the tranquility of his home. Henry did not have the presence of mind to face his brother just yet, so he decided to take a fourth option, make himself scarce that is, and go straight to bed.

"We leave at seven o'clock. Goodnight brother," he said, pretended to stifle a yawn, and hurried out of the room before Maxwell could get a word in. Strangely, he was thankful that Thornton would be travelling with them to Oxford and back, for Maxwell was not likely to ask him anything with Thornton present. As far as he knew, Thornton was not aware of Henry's connection with Frederick, so Thornton was not likely to raise the issue either. Once they return, Lennox resolved in his mind to avoid them altogether, and return to his flat in Grosvenor Square until all this palaver died down.

…

* * *

Margaret only stopped running when she reached the sanctuary of her room. In her haste, she stumbled over her trunk boxes in the middle of the room, stubbed her foot, and emitted an unladylike groan.

Her mind was in turmoil. " _I lied…I lied…."_ Mr. Thornton had said. Could everyone be right, Mr. Bell, Mrs. Thornton, Edith, Henry, everyone; that Mr. Thornton loved her…still loved her? Did she love him back? Was this strange feeling love, this odd fluttering in her stomach, this dizzying feeling of excitement and trepidation, bemusement and joy…was this love? Several questions raced through her mind in whirl. What happens now? Will he make her another offer? What will Edith and Aunt Shaw say? Will Mrs. Thornton be cross with her? Henry would be displeased, she was sure of that. He had even told her that Fred did not favour Mr. Thornton. The letter Henry gave her was in her pocket, and she was curious to know what it said. She turned up the lamp and took out the letter, and began to read it.

 _..._

 _Dear Lennox_

 _This may be the last time that you would hear from me for a while. I am presently in Le Havre on business. I met a tradesman from Milton named John Thornton known to Mr. Bell and my family. He is a magistrate, a big fellow, with the most terrifying scowl you ever saw. He was a frequent visitor to their home, and everyone thought highly of him. I suppose I should be charitable, and think well of him too, taking care of them in my place. I must warn you though, never to refer to him as a tradesman in Margaret's hearing, lest she come down on you like a ton of bricks._

 _I was kept hidden all the time, but on my departure, he saw Margaret with me at the station. Later that night, I had an altercation with some ruffian who wanted to arrest me in order to claim the bounty. This Thornton fellow told me that she got into trouble with the police because that scoundrel later died in the Infirmary. I swear, but I did not kill him. It would seem that I may be destined for the noose, for even if the Admiralty do not get me for high treason, this magistrate could report me for murder, and his manner to me suggests that he would._

 _I am most concerned for my father and sister's welfare, and would implore you to seek them out and bring me word. You have to alert Margaret that Thornton may incriminate her, in spite of their connections with him._

 _As for me, I will have to lay low for a while until I am sure it is safe to venture out._

 _FD_

...

Margaret pondered over the letter. Everything made now made sense. Mr. Thornton must have been shocked and disappointed to later find out the real truth about Frederick from the draper, Mr. Paxman. Perhaps that was why he would no longer make her an offer. Why would a law-abiding citizen and magistrate wish to be connected to a family of dissenters, mutineers and women of questionable reputation anyway? She knew that he could not expose her now because he was already complicit by intervening in the police investigation. If only he would speak with her. She would beg for his compassion, forgiveness and understanding on behalf of herself and her family, but she knew she would have to give up all hope that they could still remain friends.

She therefore decided to seek him out that night.

As soon as Margaret readied herself to go out, Edith knocked and came right in, and settled herself down in the couch by the fireplace, and patted down her full skirts to smooth out any creases. It was clear that she was not about to hurry anywhere soon, not before she got the answers she sought. Margaret tucked Fred's letter in her pocket and joined Edith on the couch.

"What happened back there?" Edith asked. "Why was Mr. Thornton cross?"

"He felt I was behaving improperly with Henry….., and so soon after Papa's passing," Margaret replied.

Edith smiled, "Henry's conduct should not come as a surprise to you. You know he uses his wit to make light of every situation, but he likes you very much. As for Mr. Thornton's rebuke,…it seems like jealousy to me. He could not court you himself, you see."

Margaret shook her head. "He did try…..and I refused him."

"And rightly so. He would have been presumptuous to expect you to consent to such a alliance," Edith said, patting her cousin's arm.

"Why then do I regret it?" Margaret asked. "Why do I want him to renew his offer to me?"

"You love him, don't you?" Edith whispered. Margaret nodded. Edith pulled Margaret close and draped one arm across her shoulders, and patted her back soothingly.

"He may well renew his addresses to you. Clearly he is still deeply in love with you. Why else would he and his mother escort you back home to us?" Edith said.

Margaret shook her head. "The Thorntons have only come as a favour to Mr. Bell. I had no other option."

"Mama was going to send Henry, but Mr. Bell told us that Mr. Thornton had offered to come instead, and at very short notice, and in spite of his busy schedule. He must think the world of you to put himself, his family and his time at your disposal," Edith said.

"No, he no longer thinks well of me…of us. He discovered about Fred…"

"Oh dear, how did he…..? Did Uncle Hale…? …Uncle Hale should not have told him," Edith said visibly shocked.

"Papa did not. Mr. Thornton met Fred in Le Havre. He is no longer in South America as you and Aunt Shaw suppose. He is in Europe. Do you remember what Mr. Thornton said at dinner, about unprincipled Englishmen? He was referring to Fred. He goes by the name Dickenson now," Margaret replied.

"But how could he have known that Fred was your brother?" Edith asked puzzled. "Surely, he would not admit his true identity to a complete stranger."

"He met a draper in Helstone, who told him everything about us. Everything, including the mutiny," Margaret added in a very low tone.

"Mr. Thornton must have a keen sense of observation to make that connection. We know that our Fred is innocent. He was fulfilling his Christian obligation by protecting those weaker than himself," Edith protested.

"Not in the eyes of the Admiralty. Besides Mr. Thornton is a magistrate, and he has to uphold the law," Margaret said. "Both Fred and Henry fear that Mr. Thornton may even hand him over to the authorities, but I know he will not."

"Henry?...Our Henry Lennox? What does he have to do with it?" Edith exclaimed.

"Fred came secretly to Milton. Mama wanted to see him before she died. I thought Henry could help clear his name, so he had been helping us all this while. It was fraught with danger, but Fred wanted us to keep his presence a secret, whilst Henry carried out his investigations," Margaret explained.

Edith brought her hands up to cover her mouth. "Oh no, Mama will be so upset. She will not want the Lennoxes to know that we have such a situation in our family. We kept this from Maxwell. If Henry knows, I cannot keep this from my husband anymore."

"Perhaps we can keep this to ourselves for the time being, till I speak to Mr. Thornton. Henry will never disclose this matter. It goes against his responsibilities as a lawyer," Margaret said.

"Dear cousin, tell me all about your Mr. Thornton," Edith grinned sheepishly and rested her chin on her palm, with her eyes dancing in expectation of a love story.

"He is not my Mr. Thornton. He is merely Papa's good friend, and Mr. Bell's tenant, …." Margaret flushed a deep scarlet.

…

* * *

.

Joanna led the way to her study.

"Now, that was quite a display, don't you agree?" Joanna Shaw said as both ladies settled down in a silver-blue damask upholstered two-seater couch with silver brocade cushions.

Hannah shrugged, but kept her peace. " _Underestimate this woman at your peril,"_ she said to herself. A less astute person would not see past the frills, ribbons and lace, the trappings of a spoilt and childlike female, to realise that Joanna Shaw was a shrewd and discerning widow who single-handedly, and had for many years successfully invested her inheritance from the General, managed a substantial estate, and brought up her daughter and niece without the assistance of a man – be it a son, brother or nephew.

"So, what can you tell me about the true nature of Mr. Thornton's friendship with my niece?" Joanna asked.

"You said it. They are friends," Hannah replied.

Joanna smiled. She could tell that extracting information from Mrs. Thornton was not going to be easy. "Mr. Thornton seems to be able to bring out strong passions in her," she said.

Hannah replied, "They are both very passionate people, and they have argued in company before, even at a formal dinner we held at my house in Milton for all mill masters," Hannah replied with air of nonchalance with the hope to dispel any further inquiry.

"I don't know your son, ma'am, but I have eyes. He could not help staring at her all evening. I also know my niece. I brought her up, and she will never do anything improper. Margaret may speak with confidence and purpose, and you may mistake that for maturity in all that she does and says, but where a man's ardour is concerned, she is a true innocent."

"Undoubtedly," Hannah noted. Obviously the girl's family did not know the kind of company she kept in Milton.

Joanna realised that her line of enquiry was not yielding much fruit. "I wonder if I should pay heed to Dixon's warning. She wrote to me, saying that Mr. Thornton had been at the house in Crampton almost every day to comfort her, and she thought it improper, as she may be prevailed upon in her grief," she said.

"Impropriety? His conduct is beyond reproach," Mrs. Thornton said, her ire rising. "John will never dishonour Margaret. If anything, it is your niece that has exhibited questionable behaviour. She traipses across Milton without a chaperone, makes friends with the workers, and courts controversy all the time."

Mrs. Shaw replied, "I can assure you that she would not venture out here in London without a chaperone or a footman. Whilst I cannot vouch for what she did in Milton, or even in Helstone, for that matter; that would have been up to her parents," Mrs. Shaw said, "but I would very much like to hear how she courted controversy."

"Let us just say that her southern ways were at odds with ours in Milton," Hannah replied. Whilst she would protect her son to the grave, she did not think it wise to mention the riot fiasco or her excursion to Outwood. John will never forgive her if she spoiled Margaret's reputation even to her family.

"She is a lovely girl, if only you would get to know her, she's a saint, an angel even. She will never do anything wrong," Joanna said.

"How extraordinary. Her mother said the same thing just before she died," Hannah said.

"Are you in favour of a match between them?" Joanna asked.

"I am in favour of whomever will make my son happy," Hannah said.

"Why then did Mr. Thornton not offer earlier, when her parents were still alive to give either their approval or refusal?" Joanna asked.

"Who knows the mind of a man?' Hannah replied. It was not a question that Hannah would answer even if she knew why Margaret had refused John.

"I am her guardian now, and it is my responsibility to make sure that Margaret makes the right choice for herself. Our family prefer Lennox; he is one of our kind. I do not know Mr. Thornton well enough to recommend him, but it is clear that Mr. Hale must have trusted him implicitly for Mr. Bell to recommend that he escort Margaret back home to us," Joanna said.

"John Thornton is a fine gentleman, and he is well sought-after by many nice ladies, but I would not want Margaret for him either, if she did not love him. He only went to Crampton because of his caring nature, to seek the welfare of the young orphaned child of his good friend. No impropriety could be construed from his actions," Hannah replied.

"Come to think of it, Dixon can be quite a dragon whenever men come calling on young ladies. Left to her, Maria would never have married Mr. Hale," Aunt Shaw said.

"I have to admit that I found your Dixon's insolence vexing," Mrs. Thornton said. "Would you believe that she refers to Mr. Hale as the young master?"

Joanna's head shot up. She remembered that Dixon always used that nickname for Frederick. Hannah knew at once that she had struck a nerve. Both ladies looked at each other in the eye, trying to discern what the other knew or was hiding. Joanna was first to break the silence. She said, "Mrs. Thornton, it would seem that you were well acquainted with my sister and her family."

"We were their only friends in Milton. John spent all the time at their house, in discussions about topics of no use to his business in the mill," Hannah replied.

"I suppose Mr. Hale must have told Mr. Thornton everything about our family connections during their discussions then?" Aunt Shaw asked.

"It was clear from their comportment as a family that they had good connections. Why do you ask?" Hannah asked. Something about the manner of the question gave her the feeling that she may have stumbled upon some important information inadvertently, and it probably had something to do with Dixon's impertinent mutterings at Crampton.

"…..There was something mentioned earlier… that made me wonder what Brother Hale might have said," Joanna said. The last that she heard was that Frederick was exiled somewhere in South America and no one in the family even mentioned his name anymore.

"If Mr. Hale disclosed private matters to him, he will not reveal them to me," Hannah replied. Neither woman would surrender the information they knew, without knowing its value to the other party.

"No of course not. No proper gentleman would," Joanna said.

…

7


	10. Chapter 10 - Making Amends

Chapter Ten- Making amends

Thornton sat in his room, fuming, berating himself. He had let Lennox provoke him into picking a fight with Margaret. He had been an inconsiderate brute to the orphaned child of his dear tutor. If he continued at this rate, she may regard that popinjay as a preferred suitor. He had to make amends. He needed to speak to her, to clear this misapprehension, but unfortunately, he had little hope to be alone with her in this house, particularly when he would have to deal with the disapproving glare of the aunt, the cousin and perhaps, his own mother.

He should have taken his chance in Milton, where he had neither Lennox nor Dickenson to contend with. Instead, like a grand fool, he had let his jealousy override, and then he muddied the waters even more, by stupidly stating to her, in no uncertain terms, the end of his passion.

He placed the letter that he had penned to her, along with the dried rose from Helstone in an envelope, and made his way out of the room. He prayed that he would find her in the Drawing Room, and hoping she would not have gone up to her bedchamber. He found the Captain seated in the far end of the Drawing Room, nursing a brandy.

"Ah, Thornton," Maxwell said, surprised to see him. "You find me all alone. My dear wife is with Cousin Margaret, and my brother has decided to have an early night."

"….and my mother?" Thornton asked.

"Mother Shaw and Mrs. Thornton are having a tête-à-tête in the study. Come in and join me. I wanted to have a word with you anyway." Maxwell said and rose to pour a glass for Thornton. "Brandy…or perhaps gin or cider?"

Thornton gave him a long stare. "Brandy," he said at length.

"What can you tell me about the cotton industry?" Maxwell asked as he handed the brandy over to Thornton. He was too much of a gentleman to inquire about the episode with Margaret, particularly from someone he was unfamiliar with.

"What do you wish to know?"

"I had been mulling over this, since the Exhibition," Maxwell said. "Most of my acquaintances favour the railroad for investment, so I am conflicted…..."

" I see." Thornton settled in a seat across from Maxwell, and the two men began to discuss in earnest.

.

* * *

.

Mrs. Thornton stepped out of Mrs. Shaw's study and made her way back to the Drawing Room. She found Thornton and the Captain in middle of a serious but even-tempered discussion.

Both men rose as Mrs. Thornton came in. She saw that Edith had not yet returned from Margaret's room, and as Mrs. Shaw had stayed back in the study, she thought it best to leave the men to their talk. Thornton indicated to her to join them instead.

"I can assure you that my mother knows everything there is to know about the running the mill, just as well as any man," Thornton explained to Maxwell.

"Yes, please join us," Maxwell said, "I have been warned to never underestimate you, ma'am."

"Excuse me?" both Thorntons said in unison.

"Well, it is not every day that Henry finds someone who sees through his wiles, and outsmarts him," Maxwell chuckled. "So, if I am considering investing in Marlborough Mills, I would like to hear all there is to know about it, that is, from a sage like you, Mrs. Thornton."

"Is this a family trait then, to employ flattery to disarm me?" Hannah asked.

Maxwell shrugged and laughed.

Hannah joined them and thoroughly enjoyed the conversation, grateful that they were not indulging in some inane chatter about the Season, fashion, gossip and connections. Thornton's chest swelled up with pride as his mother impressed Maxwell with her insight and contributions.

After some time, she decided to go to her room. Thornton excused himself from the Captain and followed after his mother.

"He seemed impressed with your improvements at the mill. All your problems could be over if he does invest," Mrs. Thornton started in a very low tone as the high ceilings in the hallway had a tendency to echo.

"Perhaps," he replied, "but it all means nothing without Margaret."

"I know. She may well change her mind, but you cannot afford to be disagreeable with her," Hannah said.

"I had come to apologise for my earlier behaviour. Lennox just gets my ire. He always seemed to be amiable with everyone, with Margaret, and even you."

"Don't be absurd. You heard his brother. Admittedly, I was caught unawares, but I soon rallied. How could you even believe that he would mistake me for your wife? He is younger than you, for crying out loud."

"You do know that he will not wait for six months….." Thornton said.

"Her family clearly favour him," she replied. "The way I see it, you have less than two days to press your suit."

"Only one day actually. Lennox and I will both be in Oxford all day tomorrow," he said. "And as long as you keep her away from him?…"

"You obviously do not know her, if you think that anyone could keep Margaret away from whatever it is that she sets her mind to," Mrs. Thornton laughed.

"Very well then... Wait, do you suppose she may... Never mind, I will see you both in the morning. Good night Mother," and he kissed her on the forehead and watched her go down the corridor towards her room.

…

* * *

.

Thornton tarried at breakfast, hoping to see Margaret the next morning before they left for Oxford. " _Perhaps it was too early for these southern ladies to be up and ready for seven,_ " he reasoned to himself as Aunt Shaw and Edith were also absent. In any case, Fanny rarely ventured out of her room before half-past nine. On the other hand, his mother was present, but then, it was a habit of a lifetime for them. Hannah Thornton always had her breakfast with her son before he set out for the mill.

"Mother, how could she could she not come to see off the gentlemen who are going to bid her precious Papa goodbye?" he asked, irritably.

"Is that what is really bothering you?" Mrs. Thornton asked.

"I wanted to speak with her before I left," he admitted.

He reached into his breast pocket and brought out the envelope that he had meant to give to Margaret last night. "Can you kindly give her this message for me," he said.

The butler came to summon him, that both Maxwell and Henry were also ready to leave. He then rose from the table, kissed his mother, left the room to put on his coat, gloves and hat, and then followed Maxwell and Henry out to the waiting carriage.

As he went down the front steps, Margaret came flying out through the front door. Fresh snow had fallen, and the landscape was white and fresh. She was in one of her favourite gowns that had been dyed black. If she could have gone to the funeral, it is what she would have worn. She did not have a coat on, but she had a thick woollen shawl across her slim shoulders, and her long hair was twisted into a loose bun.

"Mr. Thornton…Mr. Thornton…"she called urgently and almost out of breath.

Thornton bit out. "You are late." She was standing two steps behind him, which brought their faces level as he turned around to face her.

"I am truly sorry, but..could you….could.."she struggled to get the words out.

"You have been crying…."he said as he noticed her puffy face. "I….beg your pardon….Margaret, please forgive me…."

A discreet cough from one of the Lennox brothers made him realise that he was standing too close for propriety. His head told him to move back. His torso decided to lean forward.

Margaret looked first at the Lennoxes, and then back to Thornton and said, "my parents are to be buried so far apart, in Milton and in Oxford. So I thought, if I could find something of my mother's, to put in with Papa, it will give me some comfort. It took me so long to decide on an appropriate item, and then I found this shawl. Mama used to drape it over my father whenever he fell asleep in his study, to keep his warm….so could…you?…." Margaret pleaded.

"I will. It will be an honour to do this service for you," Thornton said, feeling full of remorse for being so selfish and not thinking about the sense of despair that Margaret must feel on such a day. He took the shawl from her and draped it over his left forearm. He then encased her hand in his hands. "I think we should take comfort in the notion that whilst their bodies may rest in different towns on earth, they will be together in heaven. Remember that you have both Mr. Bell and myself still living in both towns, so they are not alone either."

Margaret nodded. "Do you realise that you and Mr. Bell will be the only people in this world to attend both of my parents' funerals? In all the last eighteen months since we have come to know you, you have been a very good friend to him, sir."

"He was like a father to me," he said.

"Well, you have bestowed upon him the honour of a son. I could not ask for more," Margaret said and raised their joined hands to her lips and kissed it. Thornton brought up one hand to the side of her face and ran his thumb across the expanse of her cheek.

"And I would wish for nothing more in this life than to be his son…" his voice deepened, and he added, "….if you let me."

"Me? How is that even possible?" Margaret's face scrunched up inquiringly.

Thornton looked into her eyes, and realization dawned on her. "Oh, I see," she said, and he nodded. His heart drummed painfully against the wall of his chest, and as if drawn by an invisible magnet, he lowered his face towards hers.

On cue, they both heard a more urgent cough, and they both stopped in their tracks and looked up in the direction of the sound. A short distance away, Maxwell was smirking at them, but Henry looked away. It was too painful to watch.

Margaret moved out of Thornton's hold, stepped back, squeezed her eyes shut and buried her red-hot face in her hands. "Safe journey, Mr. Thornton," she said quietly and turned on her heel and went into the house.

Thornton watched her leave, and a boyish grin spread across his face. He pinched himself into reality, and struggled to bring his face into a sombre expression. "Get hold of yourself man," he told himself, "you are going to her father's funeral for goodness sake."

….

5


	11. Chapter 11 - Hannah and Margaret

Chapter Eleven- Hannah and Margaret

…

* * *

Margaret pulled the thick woolen shawl tight around her shoulders and took brisk steps down the dark quiet corridors, back to her room, praying fervently that she would not encounter any of the servants. Thankfully, Aunt Shaw and Edith did not rise before nine o'clock, or she would have to explain her red-hot face. She heard some movement coming from the direction of Mrs. Thornton's room, and tiptoed past the door and quietly entered her room and shut the door.

" _And I would wish for nothing more in this life than to be his son….if you let me_."

Those words would not stop ringing in her ears. All this while she had not realised that Mr. Thornton had forgiven her, and would have desired to become her father's son through her. She had denied him that opportunity when she refused him. But then, how could she have guessed it, for the man had repeatedly scowled and judged her without mercy, for her indiscretions, and her lies; for her blatant denial to Inspector Mason, of being at Outwood Station with an unknown gentleman late at night; and for feeling compelled to use his position as a magistrate to quell the inquest and spare her dear father the ignominy of seeing his daughter implicated in a scandal.

"Poor Papa," she sighed. He was the best father any child could have wished for, yet none of his own children will be present at his funeral. He was just eight years older than his wife, yet he had aged a whole decade in the past three months, and it would seem that his heart had aged even more, until it could no longer bear to beat without his beloved Maria. She strove to recall those delightful days back in Helstone, but for some reason, the only pleasant images that persisted in her mind were of her father in his study in Crampton, with Mr. Thornton, discussing about Plato, Socrates and the Classics, and not in Helstone, as she had supposed.

She sat up and reached for her mother's old reticule, and poured its contents on her bed. It held her most treasured possessions. She caressed her mother's trinket box and ran her figures across the bundle of letters from Frederick. She brought them to her nose and inhaled the smell of the sea, and pulled the blue ribbon knot tighter around the bundle. She decided to repeat her weekly ritual of reading through them later. She then picked up the family photographs and stared, transfixed at her family, who had abandoned her by death and exile, and wiped the steady stream of tears that poured down her cheeks, and onto the photographs. She put them to one side and reached for the item she sought. It was Mr. Thornton's leather gloves. She fitted her dainty hands into their large expanse, and marveled at how they enveloped hers completely. The hands to whom these gloves belonged had held on to her fingers, and brushed her cheeks just this morning, and then she had kissed them. On that thought, a fresh wave of sadness engulfed her and she began to sob fitfully.

…

* * *

.

"Here, I brought you some tea and some biscuits," Mrs. Thornton's voice broke through her cries. Margaret did not hear her and the maid knocking for the past half-minute. "You need to eat something," she added. The maid settled the tray on the bedside table, curtsied, and left the room.

Margaret nodded gratefully to the older woman.

"I know that you cherish your independence, but you are not alone in this, Margaret. Three gentlemen have left their businesses to go to Oxford to pay their respects to your dear father, and your aunt and cousin are here to comfort you. The servants have covered the mirrors and drawn down the drapes out of consideration for you," Hannah said.

For some reason, she no longer wanted to be left alone. "Will you sit with me….., and keep vigil with me, please…?" she asked, as Mrs. Thornton moved to leave. Hannah nodded and took a seat on the two-seater couch next to the fireplace, and began to pour the tea for both of them. Margaret took off the gloves and gathered all the items on the bed and began to shove them back into the reticule.

A familiar item caught Mrs. Thornton's attention, and her piercing blue eyes narrowed on them. "May I have a look at those gloves?" she asked, and Margaret reluctantly handed them over.

They looked very familiar indeed, for Mrs. Thornton remembered giving John a similar pair for Christmas, two years ago. They were from Denton glove-makers in Worcestershire, made of hand-sewn Hairsheep leather, worked to resemble peccary, with three points on the fingers, with palm vent and Milanese silk lining for extra comfort. She looked in the lining, and found the initials J.T. that she had embroidered.

"You may use saddle soap to care for it and keep the leather in good condition," Hannah said, and handed them back to Margaret. " _Why would Margaret have John's gloves in her possession?_ " she wondered. She considered all possible and plausible explanations, and none seemed palatable. _"Was there more to their relationship than her son had told her?"_ she thought. " _John had never mentioned that he had misplaced the gloves either."_

"Those gloves are my son's. How did they come to be in your possession?" Hannah finally asked.

"He forgot them at my house when he came after the riots," Margaret replied. "I had wanted to return them, but I could not find a suitable time to give them back."

Mrs. Thornton realised that there were the ones he must have worn when he made the ill-fated proposal, and came to the realization that perhaps, Margaret was not as indifferent to John as she made out to be, for no girl would hold on to an item of a gentleman they despised.

Margaret passed them to Hannah. "Mrs. Thornton, can you return them to him please? He does not need to know I had them all this while," she said, looking away from Hannah's piercing and discerning blue eyes. "You must hate me, for putting him in danger on that day. I should not have provoked into going out to speak to the mob," she added in a very low tone.

"Well, you risked your life as well, and I can see how you would consider it your womanly duty to protect him. We misunderstood your intentions, and thought that perhaps you had indicated some attachment to him by your actions," Hannah replied, thinking of the ill-advised action she herself had done as a young lady, when she went to the rescue of her employer, Mr. Makkisson, by crossing the picket line into the manufactory to stop irate workers on strike from burning it down with him in it. It would have been insupportable if she were compelled to marry that odious man.

"I did not know Mr. Thornton very well at the time. I thought that he despised me because I had always disagreed with him," Margaret explained.

Hannah gave a wry smile. "On the contrary, I can assure you that John loved you then, and loves you now." She looked at the gloves and then passed them to Margaret. "Would you like to keep them?" she asked. "…Something to remember him by."

"Thank you ma'am. I'll treasure them," she said and wrapped them in a silk scarf and placed them in her nightstand drawer. She rose from the bed and then took a seat next to Mrs. Thornton. "I feel it may sound hollow to say this after all that had transpired between us, but I wish we had been friends."

Hannah observed her for a moment and then reached and took her hand in hers and squeezed it and replied, "It's never too late…..Margaret."

"I'm glad to hear it," she said, and placed her other hand over Mrs. Thornton's hand.

"I came by your room last night, but you were still deep in conversation with Mrs. Lennox." Mrs. Thornton said.

"Edith was helping me to unpack my boxes, late into the night. It took so long because Dixon had done most of the packing. I could not locate anything. She also told me of your offer of help with Martha, and with the auction. Thank you, ma'am," Margaret said.

"I did it for you. Dixon is clearly devoted to you, but I do feel that grief for your parents may overwhelm her," Hannah said.

"Overwhelm? What makes you say that?" Margaret queried.

"Well, we had this odd conversation when I arrived at your house yesterday. She went into this silly rant about loving the three of you in one breath, and then in the very next sentence, she said she did not love your father that much. It did not make any sense," Hannah said

"Dixon is wary of all men," Margaret said.

"Mrs. Shaw said as much about her. Mind you, Dixon was also worried that you did not show quite the same composure as you had when your mother died, but then it is unfathomable to imagine what it must be for you to witness your family diminish from three souls to one in a matter of months," Hannah replied.

"….But we are a family of four," Margaret corrected.

"Four?..." Hannah queried, and did a quick count in her head, to think of a fourth person. "Ah….I see," she said. "You mean Dixon."

Margaret rose and went to the door to check that there was no one in the corridor who could overhear, and shut the door. She then shut the door to the shared sitting room and went back to her seat, but moved very close to Mrs. Thornton and leaned in.

"No, I do not mean Dixon. I have a brother," Margaret said.

"A brother?" she repeated, giving a sideways glance and wondering if Margaret was now suffering from a confused mind.

"Yes, Frederick. He is six years older than me," Margaret continued. "He lives abroad, and he doesn't yet know about father. The express I sent yesterday may take up to a fortnight to get to him," Margaret said.

"…..Is that why we never met him in Milton?" Hannah asked.

"He came to Milton, secretly, when my mother was dying. It was dangerous for him to come, and we could not tell anyone. Even Aunt Shaw, Edith and the Captain were not aware of his presence in the country."

"That is odd," Hannah frowned in puzzlement.

"My brother is a fugitive, Mrs. Thornton. He joined the Royal Navy when I was still in London, and was named as one of the ringleaders in a mutiny five years ago whilst he was defending the weak onboard the ship from a cruel captain. The Navy placed a hundred pound bounty on his head and if he is apprehended, he will be court-martialed and may be hanged," Margaret said

"Five years ago, surely time would have lapsed by now," she replied

"No. It is indefinite, and he will always be in danger if he ever came to England," Margaret said. "He was the gentleman with me at Outwood Station the night that Mr. Thornton saw me. When you came to reprimand me for my indiscretion, I was not sure that he was safely out of the country, so I could not confess to you."

"You are full of surprises. I grant you that. So you were not lovers with that man," Mrs. Thornton said.

"No. That was my brother," Margaret replied. "He is branded as a traitor, and he now has to live in exile all because he stood to defend the weak from those who would do them harm."

"The same way you stepped out, and defended my son from the mob," Hannah said. "Margaret, will you tell me more about your brother?"

"Certainly ma'am, I have all his letters, and some pictures of him," Margaret said, and reached for the old reticule, and they both pored over them.

"You have to tell John about him," Hannah said after a while.

"Mr. Thornton does know about Frederick. He went to Helstone on the way back from Le Havre, and the old draper told him about the mutiny," Margaret said.

"And you are certain of this?" Mrs. Thornton queried, for she was sure that if John knew all about Frederick, he would have said something in order to redeem Margaret in his mother's eyes, and he would have tried to engineer a way to get Margaret to stay in Milton.

"Yes, he told me so himself. He actually met my brother in Le Havre on business. Fred had travelled from Spain for a meeting with some French shipping agent at the time," Margaret replied.

Hannah remembered that John had stared at a calling card of some Arnauld fellow, and later said that he was troubled about someone who was being deceived by an acquaintance. "Did John tell you anything that may have given you some concern about of your brother's well being?" she asked.

"No, but my brother was worried that Mr. Thornton may report him to the authorities in line with his duties as a magistrate."

"How do you know this?" Hannah asked.

"Fred wrote to Henry Lennox to inquire if we were safe," Margaret replied. "He said that Mr. Thornton had accused him of being responsible for someone's death when he came to Milton, so went into hiding after the meeting."

Hannah said, "Our maid Betsy told us that her fiancé, Leonards, had died in the Infirmary, following a fight with your companion. We did not know he was your brother at the time."

"Leonards wanted to capture him for the bounty. Fred fought him off, but he did not kill him. There would have been a coroner's inquest into his death, if Mr. Thornton had not intervened. We were fortunate, for no court in the land would have believed the testimony of a mutineer," Margaret said.

"Was that why Inspector Mason was being cryptic at the station?" Hannah asked.

"Yes. The grocer's assistant identified me as a witness to the altercation, and Inspector Mason came to question me about it. I had to lie, Mrs. Thornton. I had to deny being there, in case they realised that Fred was a wanted man," she explained, and her eyes began to sting.

Hannah tilted her head to look into Margaret's eyes. Margaret glanced up and saw compassion and understanding in the older woman's countenance.

"Oh my dear dear girl. Why you would chose to bear such a heavy burden all by yourself is beyond me. Why did you not confide in John, or myself? We could have been your friend," Hannah said and pulled her close.

"I am so sorry," Margaret said and burst into tears and buried her head in Mrs. Thornton's neck. Hannah patted her back, and let her cry on until she was spent. She then whispered to her, "John will never report you to the authorities. My poor boy had been heartbroken all night, thinking that he may have lost you to Lennox. When he returns, please put him out of his misery."

"Do you approve of me then?" Margaret asked, wiping her tears with her sleeve.

"As long as you love John, you have my approval," Hannah smiled.

Margaret said. "When you said to me that I did not know the kind of man I had refused, you were right. He is a very good man. You see, ma'am, in refusing him, I had also refused his very kind mother."

Hannah sighed. "So what do we do now? You are about to remain here with your family and leave him…..us."

"But I could not remain in Milton on my own," Margaret replied.

"If you wish to visit, you will be always welcome in our house, although we may not be in Marlborough Mills when you come. Business has been difficult, and John may not be a mill master for much longer, if he does not get the investment that he seeks. We may have to vacate the house and the mill," Hannah said.

"But he has worked so hard to restore your family's fortunes. I have no doubt that his business will revive, ma'am," Margaret said with an air of optimism, hoping that Mrs. Thornton will not have to deal with a fall in status for a second time in her life.

"So what will happen to you?" she asked.

"I am more concerned about him. At least, we do not have to worry about Fanny," Hannah said.

Margaret pondered her words for some time. "I could give some young ladies instructions in art and painting. I am not as proficient as Edith on the pianoforte. I have also done some embroidery, and perhaps you could show me some intricate designs," Margaret said. "I am not afraid of hard work."

"I do not understand what you mean?" Hannah asked.

"I could be of assistance. I cannot sit here, twiddling my thumbs when you could need my help," Margaret said.

"You mean that you wish to work? Is that what you are saying?" Hannah asked.

Margaret nodded. "Yes ma'am, I do."

"If John were to marry you, what makes you think that he will ever permit it? Do you wish to shame him, to suggest that he could not provide for his family? I forbid it. Margaret, I regard you as I would my own daughter, and I made that promise to your mother. If Fanny were not settled with Watson, I would not let her seek a position. Why would think that I would then consent to it for you?" Hannah asked, visibly indignant.

"I was not saying that at all. I apologise if my intentions were misunderstood. It seems that I am doomed to cause offence with you," Margaret said.

"I may sound harsh, but this discussion has always been a matter of contention between yourself and John. It was the topic you argued about at the Masters Dinner. You want to help people in need, and give alms and charity. Yet in the north, we want to help ourselves. We take pride in being able to provide for our own needs, and meeting our responsibilities. You have to understand that a man like John will take it as an affront to his dignity if you were to take up some trade to contribute to the family purse. He is a very proud man, and his ultimate desire will be to give you the lifestyle of a gentle born lady that you are," Hannah said.

"Mrs. Thornton, you are a lady too, and whatever lifestyle that he can afford to give to you will be good enough for me as well. I do not need all the trappings of fashionable people to be happy," Margaret said.

Hannah was not sure that Margaret understood the severity of the situation. In any case, John will be reluctant to take her away from her present comfort and wealth in Harley Street, and subject her to their reduction in circumstances. "That reminds me, he gave me a message for you," Hannah went to her room to retrieve John's letter and gave it to Margaret.

Margaret opened it and the pressed rose fell out. She looked intently at it, and recognition dawned. "He must have brought them back from Helstone," she announced and tucked it into her drawstring purse.

She then began to read the letter, and her countenance gradually shifted from one of hope to a subdued one. Hannah noticed at once. "What is the matter?" she asked.

Margaret gave Hannah the letter, and held her head in her hands.

* * *

Thornton had written:

 _My dear Margaret,_

 _I pray that you will forgive me for presuming to write to you at such a sad time, but I feel I must reveal my feelings and my hopes to you before I return to Milton. Despite what I may have said, my love for you is unaltered. I loved you then, and I love you still._

 _My conduct towards you has been abominable, and I cannot excuse it. I realise that I may not be the man in your affections, but you will remain in my heart. Never fear, I will always be your friend, and I wish you all the best of happiness in whatever choice you make. However, if your regard for me has altered from what it had been, please give me a sign when I return from Oxford, and I will speak with your aunt, and ask for her permission to marry you._

 _John Thornton._

 _P.S_

 _As a friend, may I take this opportunity to plead with you, to cut all ties with Frederick Dickenson? His connection to your family is detrimental to your reputation, but I cannot stand by, and not counsel you as your friend in the least._

 _John Thornton_

"Mr. Thornton wants me to choose between himself and my brother. I cannot do that," Margaret declared. "I will not."

…

8


	12. Chapter 12 - After the Funeral

Chapter Twelve – After the Funeral

Shaw Residence, Harley Street, London

* * *

"…..You have arrived at last," Aunt Shaw said to the Captain, Lennox and Thornton, as they filed into the Music Room. She was seated at the pianoforte, playing one of Felix Mendelssohn's _Lieder Ohne Worte_ in full mourning attire, like a little black carnation, in silk, in satin and in lace. She even had black ribbons in her hair, and the white lawn handkerchief tucked in her bosom was the only contrast in the image she presented. She looked up from the music sheet and turned around on the bench to face them, with the elegance of a duchess. "We were getting worried. What took you so long?"

"I give you my heartfelt apologies, Mother Shaw, but you have my brother to blame for that," Maxwell said. "Thornton and I were innocent bystanders. Poor chap. He has to get back to Milton this very night."

"No, no, no, let us place the blame squarely and firmly on Mr. Bell's shoulders," Henry Lennox protested. "He asked to see me this morning, to discuss about some private arrangements regarding Miss. Hale. The delay could not be helped, but then I could never turn down the opportunity to be of service to our dear Margaret."

Thornton mustered all his willpower to not roll up his eyes as Lennox resumed the blather they had endured for every minute and every inch of the sixty-mile journey back from Oxford. Truth be told, he was jealous that Mr. Bell had singled Lennox out for that important task of managing 'our dear' Miss Hale's affairs. Never mind that the wily old man had given Thornton the old vicar's spectacles and wedding ring, to bear back to Margaret, but then he had not made an almighty song and dance about it like Lennox had. There was a very good reason for that, but he could not bear to dwell too much on it at present. In a moment of reverie and boredom, whilst waiting for Lennox to emerge from his meeting with Mr. Bell, and when the Captain had stepped out for a smoke, he had secretly tried on the ring and it was now stuck on his ring finger, so he could not take off the glove on his left hand until he had the chance to retrieve it. He was sure that his mother would know what to do.

"Mr. Thornton, your mother was getting anxious when you did not arrive as scheduled. If you do not mind, I took the liberty to invite her to extend her stay. She accepted on your behalf, and said that you would need the rest from all your travels," Mrs. Shaw said.

"Thank you ma'am," Thornton nodded gratefully. He would now have to himself to face his mother ire. She would bend his ear, for sure, and complain that she would have to spend longer than the three days she had anticipated in London, and away from her beloved Milton. "I will go up and see her presently."

"Margaret is helping her to unpack her bags, as you will have to remain here for the weekend. There are no trains on Sunday, and I doubt if you will get a seat on any northbound trains tomorrow," Joanna said.

"Miss Hale is with my mother?" Thornton asked unbelieving.

"Yes sir. They have been cooped in together for much of the past two days. Mrs. Thornton kindly kept vigil with Margaret whilst you were away, and the dear girl stuck to her like glue. Heaven knows what they got to talk about," Joanna said.

"The last time that I was with them, they were talking about the mill and the Union," Edith said, as she came in at the same time. "I did not know that such topics could even hold Margaret's attention."

"My mother and Miss Hale?" Thornton repeated, optimism rising in his heart, of an amiable relationship between the two most important women in his life. "Mrs. Shaw, may I have a quick word with you in private?"

"On that note, may Edith and I be excused?" Maxwell wrapped his arm around his wife's shoulders and led her from the room.

"As would I. Mr. Bell wanted me to deliver this message to Margaret in person," said Lennox, pulling out a fat envelope from his briefcase. "Excuse me, Mother Shaw, Thornton," he bowed and left the room, following on the heels of his brother and sister-in-law.

"Bless him," Aunt Shaw said wistfully as she watched Lennox depart. "He is so devoted to our Margaret. I think they are well suited for each other. They were almost inseparable during Edith and Maxwell's wedding."

"Were they now?" Thornton asked quietly, and took a seat on the sofa not far from Mrs. Shaw.

Aunt Shaw continued, "we may very well hear the peals of another wedding in the family in the next few months, when she comes out of mourning. Will it not be delightful for the poor girl to get some happiness after all the sadness that she had been through? I daresay that he will be a perfect match for her."

Thornton asked, "Has Miss Hale consented to a courtship then?"

"No, not that I know of," Joanna replied.

Thornton gave an audible sigh of relief.

Mrs. Shaw smiled. "Mr. Thornton, I believe I know what you wish to ask of me, and I will tell you the same thing that I said to Mr. Lennox, and that is to give Margaret some time. She has lost both parents in a matter of months, and it is etiquette to honour them for at least a year."

"You consider him a perfect match for her, and yet you have not sought her opinion on the matter," Thornton noted.

"Yes, I do esteem him highly, but then, Margaret does not know her mind. She will have the benefit of my guidance, when the time comes. In the meantime, I want her to travel with me to Europe for a few months. I think it will lift her spirits. We were thinking of Spain, Portugal and Greece. You will be pleased to know that we will avoid France, although you can always come across unprincipled Englishmen anywhere you go," Mrs. Shaw added.

"Ah, so you now admit that you know Dickenson," Thornton said.

"If it is the same person that I believe you may be referring to, I honestly did not know him by that name. I was surprised that Brother Hale told you about him at all. In all honesty, we had heard that he was in South America or the Indies," Joanna replied.

"He returned from Argentina about three years ago. I actually came across a photograph at the Hale residence where he posed with your daughter and Miss Hale. The photograph was taken at the Woolwich Dockyard here in London, and the names, Edith, Frederick and Margaret were clearly written on the reverse," Thornton explained.

Aunt Shaw exhaled deeply and rose and went straight to the door to the Music Room to shut it. She then came to join Thornton on the sofa. Her face was flushed pink, and she began to frantically fan herself. She said in a very low but urgent tone, "You can never be too careful. That picture you saw was taken a very long time ago. We no longer talk about him in this house. As far as we are concerned, he is no more."

"Yes, he is; Very much so. I met him three weeks ago, in France," Thornton said. "He blatantly denied all connection to her. He should not be allowed to roam free to play havoc with reputations. If there is any justice in this world, he should be exposed and made to pay for his sins. Unfortunately, to do so will be grossly detrimental to you and this entire family."

"I am now at a loss as to what you want me to do, or what you think I can do. He is completely lost to us. You have to understand that, Mr. Thornton," Aunt Shaw said.

"You have not even asked me what this man has done," Thornton said.

"I know the whole story. I regard him as I would my own son, if I ever had one, and I can never hate him, no matter what he did. I suppose we may have to come to an arrangement to secure your silence on the matter," she replied.

"An arrangement…..to secure my silence? What the blazes…..what are you are talking about?" Thornton asked, his eyes flashing with anger.

"Mr. Thornton, you need to lower your voice. This is a very delicate situation, and walls have ears, and the only servant that could be trusted in this house is Carter," Aunt Shaw whispered hurriedly, and gestured with her hand to calm him down. Thornton's reaction made her dispel any suspicion of extortion or blackmail at once.

"Madam, let us be clear, Miss Hale's welfare is my concern. Her father is my friend and I will continue to ask after her wellbeing unless and until she tells me otherwise," he said. "I was going to act on this on my own, but I decided to consult you in the first instance, because you are her guardian. I will not let that man embroil her in his notoriety and scandal."

"I can see that you truly love her, but I honestly cannot see how you could possibly protect her," she said gently.

"If you won't lift a finger to help, then I will resolve this all by myself. Excuse me, ma'am," he said and left the room.

…

* * *

..

"Why is Margaret not with you?" Thornton asked Hannah as he came into the ladies' sitting room and swiftly scanned the room, the irritation discernible in his tone. "I have to speak with her. It is very important."

"She left a few minutes ago with Mr. Lennox, to the library, I think," she replied.

He sank into a chair. "You promised me that you would not let that man anywhere near her."

"Poor girl. She has no idea how possessive you can be." Hannah said.

He ignored her meaning, and took off his glove. "This ring is stuck. Will you help me?" he asked. "It is Mr. Hale's, and I did not want to lose it before I returned it to her."

He avoided Hannah's wide eyes as she stared open-mouthed at him. She shook her head in disbelief and led him to the washstand in her room and gave him a bar of soap to loosen the ring. She then took his glove and inspected the lining. "I see you got yourself an identical pair," she said, "to replace the one you lost. Your initials are missing."

"I do know where I left them, but I cannot ask for its return," he said, and left the pair with her to embroider.

"Margaret showed me your letter and your ultimatum. I cannot say that I understand it, but I told her to give you some time, and that you will come round eventually. I know that you take your duty as a magistrate very seriously, and rightly so. In this instance, if you let it stand in the way of your future happiness, you would have done yourself a great disservice, for you will never be happy with any other woman in this world," Hannah said.

"You judged right. You cannot understand it, but I am doing this for her own good," he said and strode out.

His mother watched him depart, more puzzled than ever.

…

* * *

Thornton made his way to the library and found Edith and Maxwell coming out of the room.

"Margaret and Henry are in there," Edith said to Thornton. "Captain and I want to give them some privacy."

Thornton face became ashen, and Edith got the confirmation she sought, that her mother's suspicions about this big fellow from the north were correct.

"I will wait there for her, until she has finished," Thornton declared and continued down the hallway. He had no intention of observing propriety and stay away, and lose Margaret in the bargain, particularly with people who did not consider him to be a proper gentleman in the first place.

…

* * *

Thornton heard the voices of Margaret and Lennox as he approached the study, and he slowed down to listen for the right time to interrupt them. He did not wish to eavesdrop, so he stood in the doorway, but neither seemed to notice him. They both had their heads bowed over some papers. Lennox pointed to some parts and Margaret signed her hand, and moved on to the next sheet.

"…...Please do not run away to Spain. Remain here with us. I know you are bound to feel disappointed, but that fellow does not deserve your love, and it should be evident by now that he will never make you an offer of marriage," Lennox said.

"It is not what you think," Margaret replied.

Thornton coughed to draw their attention, and both Margaret and Lennox looked up. Both were clearly alarmed.

"Margaret, I could not help overhearing, and I am afraid that I have to interrupt," Thornton said, and stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. "I have to agree with Lennox here. Do not go to Spain. Things are not as you suppose over there."

"Why? Do you think that Frederick is in danger of discovery?" Margaret asked nervously.

"I'm worried for you. You will be disappointed. …Dickenson, I hear is lately married," Thornton said.

Silence.

Thornton's eyes darted from Lennox to Margaret and back, but neither seemed perturbed.

"Yes, to Delores Barbour," Margaret said after a while. "But I do not think that she will not want me with them."

"I beg your pardon, but…..what is the nature of your relationship…for I am confused," Thornton said.

"I thought you knew….you said you knew….on the train," Margaret replied.

"Yes…..?" Thornton said, "or perhaps not."

"Frederick is my brother," Margaret replied.

6


	13. Chapter 13 - Revelations

Chapter Twelve – Revelations

* * *

"Frederick is my brother," Margaret replied.

"Your brother?" Thornton repeated, genuinely puzzled.

"But his name is Dickenson. Is he your half-brother?" he asked, his logical mind still trying to make sense of the nonsense.

"Half-brother? What a notion," Lennox scoffed. Thornton shot him the most formidable glare ever. Henry knew that he would not stand a cat's chance in hell if he were to challenge Thornton to throw down in fisticuffs, therefore he wisely took the initiative to clamp his mouth shut.

"Mr. Thornton," Margaret said, with discernible irritation in her tone directed at Henry for his outburst, "His real name is Lieutenant Frederick Hale. He lives in exile following a mutiny in the Royal Navy."

"Mutiny? … Mutiny!" Thornton exclaimed. The look of alarm on Margaret's face towards the door made him realise that he had perhaps spoken too loudly. He went to the door to confirm that he had indeed shut it properly. "Did you say….mutiny?" he repeated, but in a lower tone.

"You said that the old draper, Mr. Paxman told you of the mutiny when you went to Helstone. ….Do you not remember that?" Margaret said.

"Yes, but I thought that he was referring to your father's dissent from the church as a revolt against ecclesiastical authority. I did not know that he was speaking of an actual mutiny….a military one," Thornton replied.

He placed his hand on the backrest of the chair closest to him, and squeezed the damask upholstery until his knuckles turned white. "A mutiny is a serious matter. It is a capital offence. Are you quite sure about this?" he asked.

"If he is captured, he will face a court-martial, and he could be hanged. Even the Captain does not know about him," Margaret replied.

He knees sagged and he moved to the chair, and sank into the cushioned seat. He situated his elbows on the desk and twined his fingers together in a loose clasp. He then brought his clasped fists up and rested his chin on his thumbs in a posture of deep contemplation, muttering the occasional unintelligible syllable, and staring with unseeing eyes at a pot of blue ink a few inches away from his right elbow.

Lennox began to fidget with his pen, spinning it between his index finger and middle finger; irritated that Thornton was taking his time thinking. Soon he began to drum it on the desk, and Margaret gave him a look to silence him. This was not how he had envisaged the errand from Mr. Bell to turn out. " _Be patient, Thornton leaves on Monday_ ," he told himself.

Revelation began to seep into Thornton's consciousness.

He reached into his pocket and brought out Mr. Hale's spectacles and wedding ring. "Mr. Bell wanted me to give them to you," he explained, and placed the wedding ring on the table, but held the spectacles by the rim and stared through the lenses. "Uncanny. With these eyeglasses, he will be the exact likeness of your father," he said. Margaret nodded. "Yes, but he is a clear four inches taller than Papa."

"Dickenson is Hale. How could I have missed that? I saw his carpetbag in the hallway, and I heard his laughter from the upstairs window," he continued, the pain of the Hale snobbery still evident in his voice.

"Papa and I could not let you into the house, but no discourtesy was meant by it. You are a magistrate, and we did not want to put you in an awkward situation, if it were to be discovered that we had harboured a fugitive to the Crown."

"Is it possible that Leonards discovered it?" he asked.

"Yes, he saw Dixon in the street on the day before Mama's funeral, and surmised that we lived in Milton. We realised that it was unsafe for Fred to remain in Milton, and decided that he had to leave that very night. When Leonards later saw us at Outwood Station, he wanted to capture Fred in order to claim the hundred pound bounty that the Navy had imposed upon him. Fred fought him off, but he did not kill him, I swear," Margaret said.

"I know. The man died from some other internal complaint," he said. "But then, you could have told me all this after your brother had made his escape, and when I asked you about him."

"He was still in the country at the time. He went to London, to consult Henry, to see if his name could be cleared," Margaret explained.

" _Henry. That name again_." Thornton thought. He could not hide his jealousy that Margaret had trusted Henry Lennox enough to disclose such a difficult secret. He muttered an oath under breath and brought his hands back to the desk with a thump, unsettling the inkpot and spilling a dollop onto Aunt Shaw's immaculate Nordic Pine desk, and drawing a sharp indrawn breath from Lennox in the bargain.

"Lennox," he said, and turned to the other man, "so you knew about this all along? You knew…..."

"Well…..yes, it is a family matter," Lennox said. He rose to his feet, to let Thornton know that he had intruded on a private moment between himself and Margaret, hoping to prompt him to leave.

Thornton did not take the hint. Instead he continued, "but if you knew that Dickenson was her brother, why did…..what were…..who was the other gentleman that you were referring to….….the one who would never offer…..the one she loved….?"

"Damn you," Lennox hissed. He gave Thornton the evil eye, gathered the papers under one arm, grabbed his briefcase in the other, and stormed out of the room. Thornton watched him leave, surprised, bemused.

Like the conductor of an orchestra, Thornton's index finger drew an arc in the air, from left to right to left and back, and began to move the final pieces of the puzzle into place.

The piece of the puzzle from Havre

The piece of the puzzle from Helstone

The piece of the puzzle from Harley Street

Realisation dawned.

"Oh Margaret," he said, and he turned to look at her. She had covered her face in her hands and lowered her head over the desk. He rose from his seat and moved next to her and knelt down.

"Margaret," Thornton said, his voice trembled. Still her head went lower. He moved his head next to her face, and rested the ridge of his nose against her cheek. He draped an arm about her shoulders and ran the back of his knuckles across her jawline.

"Margaret," he said again. He gently pulled her off the seat into his arms, sat back on his haunches, and cradled her in his lap. She could not bear to look at him, so she buried her face in his neck, and he inhaled the fragrance of her freshly washed hair. "Let me kiss you," he begged, and he moved his shoulder sideways to look at her face. He then placed one arm firmly across her shoulder and brought up his other hand under her chin to turn her face up toward his. He then traced the outline of her lips, from the Cupid's bow to the edge, and all around it with his thumb, and then parted them slightly and fitted his lips onto hers. Her head moved backwards, so he placed his hand behind her head to keep her face steady and coaxed her lips wider apart for a deeper lingering kiss. He had waited so long for this, and he never wanted it to end, but he needed to break free, and let some air into both their lungs. His knees soon began to ache, and he needed to find a more comfortable position.…

He smiled against her lips, "…I really enjoyed that…."

She shut her eyes tight, mortified that he could speak so honestly, so bluntly of his feelings. But then, he was from the north…

"I must be dreaming…..….. May I have another kiss?" Thornton asked.

"That will not be necessary, John. We just saw the last one." Mrs. Thornton said.

…..

Thornton and Margaret sprang apart to see Hannah and Edith glaring at them, with jaws dropped open. Henry had stormed upstairs, past a bewildered Edith, Aunt Shaw, the Captain and Mrs. Thornton in the upper hall, grumbling about ill-mannered tradesmen. Edith immediately offered to check on Thornton and Margaret in the Library, and Hannah decided to come along with Edith.

"And it would seem that our dear Margaret is being adequately comforted by Mr. Thornton," Edith quipped.

4


	14. Chapter 14 - Letting go

Chapter Fourteen – Letting go.

* * *

Margaret pushed against Thornton's chest and wriggled out of his firm hold. He was reluctant to let her go, but she was clearly in need of some very cool air. She clambered up, her cheeks, flushed bright red, and she smoothed down her skirts as she raced towards the door. If she could safely make it to her room, she vowed to go to bed and hibernate for the next two hundred years at the very least. Edith got to the door before her, and placed an arm across the doorway to block her escape, whilst Mrs. Thornton remained in the middle of the room, and kept a disapproving eye on her son.

Thornton slowly rose from the floor, his large frame, in turmoil, in a mixture of emotions, of euphoria and lethargy. His remorse was not about the kiss, far from it. Indeed, it was everything he'd hoped it would be, and some. It was well worth the wait, all eighteen months of it. The moment he began to kiss her, he hungered for more of her, such that it was fortuitous that they had been interrupted. At the same time, he regretted being caught at it, for it had embarrassed her, and that was the last thing he would have wanted to do- cause her any discomfort.

He wanted to go after her, but his legs seemed to have been weighed down with the sinking feeling in his heart. He had just unleashed his pent-up longing on an unsuspecting Margaret, so it should come at no surprise that she had run away from him.

Hannah was disappointed with him. He should have displayed better self-control, but she knew that that just a little morsel of encouragement from Margaret would have been enough to make him lose his head. "But why would you do that?" she mouthed to him, but he could not think of a sensible response. Instead he kept staring at Margaret, being detained by Edith at the door. He could not make out what they were saying, but it seemed that they were having an argument. "I thought….I thought she loved me," he said quietly.

"Surely you did not misread her regard again?" she asked.

Thornton shook his head, "I am not sure. I cannot tell."

"A puff of smoke," Hannah scoffed, "that is what a girl's love is. Puff of smoke."

"I am not a hopeful man, Mother. Do you think that she will change her mind?" he asked her. "I do not know, John," she replied, and came closer to him, and placed her hand on his arm. "For both our sakes, I pray that she does not, for I cannot bear to witness your heartbreak once again. I fear that her cousin may impose upon her to refuse you."

Thornton could not bear to watch any longer, so he turned round and went to the far window to look out into the dusky evening. He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose, and then raked his long fingers through his immaculately combed hair, disheveling it. Lennox would never have kissed her like that, and humiliate her so. "You fool. You presumptuous fool," he castigated himself.

…

* * *

"Edith," Margaret hissed for her cousin to vacate the doorway.

"So he is not just Papa's friend after all," Edith said instead with a knowing look.

"Edith….don't….…." Margaret warned.

"Maxwell told me that Mr. Thornton had behaved in the most improper manner towards you, on their way to the station." Edith said.

"I asked him to take Mama's shawl to Papa for me. How on earth could that be considered improper?" Margaret said, her curled-up lips mirroring her irritation.

"I heard that he held on to your hand, or something like that," Edith said.

"In the north, ladies take gentlemen's hands. I misunderstood that custom when I first got to Milton, and ended up snubbing Mr. Thornton on his very first visit to our house. Please, do not give that incident too much credit," Margaret said.

"But I also heard that he would have kissed you in broad daylight had Maxwell not intervened. I swore to high heavens that you would never let such impropriety occur. Imagine my surprise when I come downstairs to see that," Edith replied, gesturing towards the area where they were discovered.

Margaret gasped, mortified. Edith continued, "He kissed you so passionately, cousin. I am married, but I have never even had a kiss like that."

Margaret's lips formed a soundless 'o' and she stared at a small gap between the oak floorboards, and willed the gap to widen and swallow her whole.

"If Mama and Maxwell were here to witness it, you would never have lived it down. She would have insisted that you wed Mr. Thornton this very night, and my husband would have asked him to leave this house at once," Edith concluded.

"Edith, please don't say such things. Mrs. Thornton may hear you, and I do not want her to be displeased with me as well," Margaret whispered.

Edith looked up at Hannah, and then leaned and whispered to Margaret, "I do not think that she is vexed with you at all. She looks very sad though."

…

* * *

.

Mrs. Thornton remained in the middle of the room, halfway between Thornton by the window, and Margaret and Edith at the door. She turned a quarter circle and looked at Thornton, and then a half circle, and looked at Margaret, back again to Thornton.

Her son's head was bowed. He looked crestfallen and dejected. Nine months ago, he had come to her, on the heels of Margaret's rejection, and said, " _no one loves me but you, Mother_." He needed his mother's love, and she was pleased to comfort him at the time. On this day for once, Hannah did not know what to do, and yet she knew what she had to do at the same time.

"May I have a word with you, Miss Hale?" she beckoned.

" _So I am now back to Miss Hale….."_ Margaret muttered underneath her breath as she came and stood by Mrs. Thornton, trying to muster up some courage.

"Why were you running away? Did John impose on you?" Hannah asked.

Margaret looked up. It bothered her that Edith also accused Mr. Thornton of improper behaviour. She said emphatically, "No, of course not. He was a perfect gentleman ma'am."

"Why then are you crying?" Mrs. Thornton hooked her index finger under Margaret's chin and lifted her face up to look into her eyes.

Margaret pouted, "I do not want to lose your friendship, but I am sure that you must hate me for what just happened…"

"I am the mother who bore him, and I could never truly hate you if you will make him happy. I may be mistaken about your regard, for you once threw your arms around the neck of a man desperate for your love. It meant nothing to you on that day, but it meant everything to him. You hated him. You thought him beneath you, yet he could not bear to hear of any ill spoken of you," Hannah said.

"I am truly sorry..…." Margaret began.

"Whilst I do not care to witness such a scene again, my only hope is that you must love him back to let him kiss you like that," Hannah said, and peered closer to Margaret's face to seek for the signs of a reciprocated love for John.

"I love him, ma'am," Margaret replied quietly.

Hannah gave a wry smile and said, "well then child, go to him." She stepped back and shooed Margaret along. "Go."

She then grabbed Margaret by the forearm as she began to leave, and squeezed it, "please be kind to my boy. He loves you," she added and watched Margaret move towards John. She took a deep breath and blinked back the tears that were threatening to spill onto her cheeks. She had sworn never to let anybody see her cry, and she was in danger of falling short of that resolve, particularly as she felt Edith Lennox's hand on her elbow.

…

* * *

..

Thornton heard the faint rustle of skirt and petticoat to his left, and braced himself to face his mother's reprimand. He reluctantly opened his eyes, and saw a reflection in the window in front of him. He did a double take, spun round, and there she was, smiling; Margaret, his Margaret, with love dancing in her eyes; just for him. He looked up, and his mother and Mrs. Lennox were standing guard at the door, together, in polite conversation. He looked back to the glorious sight before him.

"You….you will have me? You will let me love you?" he asked, his voice barely camouflaging a tremble.

She nodded, "Yes," still smiling.

He could not believe his eyes and or his ears for that matter. He had to make sure. He leaned in and whispered into Margaret's ear in his deepest Darkshire voice, "Beware Margaret, lest I claim you in my own presumptuous way."

He was rewarded with a pretty blush that rose from her collarbone up to her cheekbone, and probably descended all the way down to her hipbone. He glanced towards the doorway, and caught his mother's eye. He distinctly saw her roll her eyes and shake her head to wordlessly warn him to be restrained for the time being. She probably guessed what he was thinking of, and what he wanted to do. He averted his eyes, cleared his throat and adjusted his cravat and collar to hide the reddening hue rising up his neck to his face.

"You will become my very own Margaret," he whispered huskily mustering all the control that he could manage.

"Mr. Thornton..….."

"John," he corrected. "My name is John." He leaned very close to her.

Her heart jumped and she felt dizzy "John," she repeated, and reached out and placed her hands on his chest."

Thornton blinked. His heart drummed painfully against the wall of his chest, and a broad grin broke out on his face. He leaned forward and took both hands and lifted them and to his neck. "You had your hands right here that day, and rescued me from the mob," he said and let out a deep breath, giddy with excitement.

"They can see us…"Margaret protested.

"Yes, they can, but they pretend not to," he replied, and pulled her closer still. "If I can persuade your aunt to consent, will you return to Milton with me…..as my wife?" he asked.

"Yes,….John…yes I will," she replied.

"Thank you," he said.

…

* * *

..

The sheer joy on John's face was confirmation to Hannah that she had been correct in her assessment. Her dear son deserves happiness, and Margaret Hale will give it to him. With a heavy heart, Hannah conceded that she had reached that dreaded milestone in the life of a mother of a son, when she would have to step down and let another woman become the most important person in her son's life.

Edith sniffed. "I am so happy for her. She loves Mr. Thornton," Edith replied.

"I wish that I shared your optimism. She used to hate him," Hannah said.

"That was merely first impressions. In her first letter to me from Milton, she described the cotton mills as snow-white hell, but when we met her at the Exhibition, she spoke with much eagerness of her life there. She even asked Mr. Thornton to relay a message to her parents about returning home to Milton," Edith said.

"Her passion was for the workers. She loved them and everyone else but him," Hannah said.

"Margaret is not a ready lover, but where she loved she loved passionately, and with no small degree of jealousy. Henry suspected that she was in love with Mr. Thornton when he saw them speaking at the Exhibition, but she would not admit it to me when I queried her about him," Edith said.

"Why would she conceal her feelings?" Hannah asked.

"She was certain that Mr. Thornton hated her, but only maintained some modicum of civility in his address out of respect for her parents," Edith explained.

"My son has an ardent disposition, but he could never hate her with the best will in the world. I witnessed his desperation all these months, and it pierced my soul, and I have to admit that I despised her all the more." Hannah said.

"Margaret can be strong-willed at-times, and though she knows her own mind about many things, she did not know her own heart when it came to Mr. Thornton. She loves him now, I assure you," Edith said.

"And do you encourage an attachment between them?" Hannah asked.

"I want her to be happy, " Edith said. "She told me everything that Mr. Thornton did for her and for the family. I have also seen how you have cared for her in the past three days. Besides, she admires Mr. Thornton for his prominence in society and business in Milton. He . We just have to persuade Mama to consent."

"I see," Hannah said, wondering if the aunt knew about the problems with the mill and John's business.

…

* * *

"Edith, Mrs. Thornton, did you find them?" Aunt Shaw voice called out from the hall.

"Indeed we did, Mama. We are coming now," Edith said.

…..


	15. Chapter 15 - Persuading Mrs Shaw -Part 1

Chapter Fifteen – Persuading Mrs. Shaw - Part One

* * *

" _If I can persuade your aunt to consent, will you return to Milton with me...as my wife?" he asked._

 _"Yes...John...yes, I will," she replied._

* * *

"I have to speak to your aunt," Thornton said to Margaret. "but I know that she will regard me as unsuitable and unworthy of you." They followed Edith and Hannah back to the Drawing Room, where the rest of the family was waiting.

"Well, that makes us even," Margaret replied. "Your family do not consider me worthy of you either. Fanny even said that I had schemed to get you. Her very words were, ' _she would give her two eyes for my brother."_

"That was extremely rude of her to say that to you," Thornton said. "I should have a word with her."

"It is all in the past now, John. Truth be told, she did not realise that I had overheard her. I think that she was speaking to the maid and your mother at the time." Margaret said.

"The maid and my mother?" he queried. "It does not make any sense."

Thornton began to wonder where and when this conversation could have taken place. He surmised that it had to be at Marlborough House, if the maid was present. To his recollection, Margaret had only been at the house on two occasions, that is, at the Masters' Dinner, and on the day of the riot, and he had been present. Before long, realisation dawned on him. He stood rooted at the bottom of the stairs, with his jaw dropped open.

Margaret took a few steps on. "So, are you coming or not, or will you have me face this mob on my own?" she arched an eyebrow and whispered back to him.

"Dearest, as long as you promise to place your hands around my neck should in case your aunt decide to aim her fine Wedgewood China teacup or that gilded candelabra at me," he said huskily and plants a soft kiss on her lips.

* * *

They reached the Drawing Room and filed in. Maxwell, Henry and Joanna were playing cards. "Come and join us," Mrs. Shaw said. "I'd better warn you that the Captain always wins."

"Always," Henry confirmed. "…Always."

"And always fair and square," Maxwell said.

Edith joined in but Mrs. Thornton declined. She could sense some tension in John's demeanour as he came in with Margaret holding on to his arm. They were holding each other too close for propriety, and were certain to raise eyebrows from all the occupants in the room. Neither seemed perturbed at the gasps they elicited either.

Thornton stood in the centre of the room. He cleared his throat, and reached to hold Margaret's hand in his, "I beg your pardon. I…We have an announcement to make. Mrs. Shaw, Captain Lennox, Mrs. Lennox, Lennox, Mother; Miss Hale….Miss Margaret has consented to becoming my wife."

You could hear a pin drop.

Maxwell and Henry rose and offered their congratulations to Thornton and kissed Margaret's cheek. Edith was grinning broadly. Mrs. Thornton noticed that Mrs. Shaw had remained mute, and surmised that the aunt must surely object to the attachment. Joanna caught her eye but did not find an ally in Hannah. Despite her misgivings about Margaret, the sheer joy plastered on her son's features was enough incentive to support his quest for the love of his life.

Joanna Shaw threw her hands up in the air, "Am I the only one here who thinks that this is a very bad idea?" she asked, putting a stop to any premature celebrations.

All eyes turned to her. She directed her glare on Thornton. "Margaret cannot marry you sir. Such haste will be frowned upon by all and sundry. Mr. Thornton, I was under the impression that we had discussed this, that she needed time to grieve, and be certain that this was what she wanted."

Thornton's face creased into a deep frown, but he knew the aunt was right. A six-month period of half-mourning was the proper time to wait before pressing any suit. He did not even have a hope in hell that Margaret would accept him three days ago, so it was good fortune that he had made this much progress, even if there was this setback. Nevertheless, he could not stem the resurgence of his insecurities that such a lovely creature could truly care for him. "I will wait for you, if you will still have me," he said quietly to Margaret.

"John, I love you…" Margaret said and squeezed his hand.

"I would like to have a word with my niece in private," Mrs. Shaw said to the Thorntons. She rose and prised Margaret hand out of Thornton's grip. "May we be excused?"

Thornton's heart sank to the base of his stomach. He did not need a crystal ball to know what would transpire in that conversation. His sense of unworthiness gradually began to overwhelm him. Why should Margaret tie herself down to a failed businessman, an uncouth fellow from the North when she could have any sophisticated and educated southern gentleman?

"Come with me," she said and pulled Margaret out of the room. Edith ran after them. "I am coming too, Mama," she said. They did not stop until they reached the study, and Mrs. Shaw firmly shut the door and turned the key in the lock.

* * *

"Well, I daresay, this calls for a celebration. Cider, Port or Ale, Thornton, Mrs. Thornton?" Maxwell asked. Henry declined with a roll of his eye. A celebration was the last thing on his mind, but his ever-jovial brother would seize on any excuse to have a drink. Both Thorntons also declined any drinks. Neither of them wished to tempt fate. Maxwell and Henry decided to continue with their game, and John and Hannah moved to the far end of the room, away from the brothers.

"We shall see how well her professed love holds fast," Hannah bit out, but apprehensive that the Aunt would succeed in prevailing upon her to change her mind, and break John's heart all over again. "She is so unpredictable, that one."

"Unpredictable, hmmm…." he pondered. "Well, I suppose Fanny did accuse her of scheming to get me to propose, and in true unpredictable fashion, she refused me," Thornton said.

"But she could never have known what Fanny said," Hannah retorted.

"She did actually. She overheard you, Fanny and Jane speaking on that day of the riot in the Drawing Room. You did not realise that she had regained consciousness, and she must have felt humiliated to hear such vicious words spoken about her," Thornton said.

Hannah brought her hand up to cover her mouth. "I know that when she woke up, she was adamant to go home despite all my efforts to detain her as you had asked. I thought her obstinate and reckless at the time, but I could never have guessed that she heard the discussion. Do you think that she would have accepted you if she had not heard what Fanny said?"

"She may very well still have refused me, but perhaps not with the vehemence with which she spoke. She did not know of my feelings at the time, and thought I only offered in order to save her reputation. I thought my wealth and prominence was deemed sufficient to qualify me as veritable suitor, and she promptly put me in my place," Thornton said.

"But she never loved you from the start," Hannah said.

"There was such a propensity to misunderstand each other's ways. I had presumed that her actions on the balcony implied that my love was returned, even though she had never given me any prior indication of such sentiments," Thornton said.

"She was the one who had let all the misconceptions persist," Hannah said.

"She put her reputation and her life at risk to correct her error in judgment in persuading me to go out and speak to those men, and I am certain that after hearing those accusations, it should come as no surprise that she would refuse me, even if she had ever cared for me. Everyone thought her to be penniless upstart, yet she lived in this splendid house in Harley Street," Thornton said.

"She may not be an upstart, but she is still penniless," Hannah reminded him.

"Which will make no difference now, as I am about to lose everything I have worked for myself. As to your queries on her virtue, that man at Outwood Station…."

"….Was her brother, Frederick. She told me everything," Hannah finished for him. "I have discovered so many admirable qualities in her ever since we got here. We have decided to become friends. John, I no longer despise her."

"Thank you Mother, but I want you to love her," Thornton said, "please."

"I will love her. I promise," Hannah said. " _God help me_ ," she looked heavenwards in a silent prayer.

* * *

"Brother Hale should never have taken you all to Milton. That dreadful town killed my poor sister. He should have left you in London with me, and I would have secured a proper husband for you," Aunt Shaw said pacing the room from one end to the other.

"There is nothing improper about Mr. Thornton. He is a prominent man in Milton, and a magistrate," Margaret's voice began to tremble with a righteous indignation.

"But he is in trade, and his fortune will vary according to market forces. If you were to be in want, what will you feed your children?" Joanna said.

"the same as you used to threaten Edith and I when we were young …Broth without any bread, and then whip them all soundly, and send them to bed," Margaret said.

"I never carried out that threat," Joanna said, frantically gesticulating and fanning herself. She soon caught both Edith and Margaret sniggering behind her hands. "Oh…..you do take delight in vexing me. I should die of a broken heart if you persist in this venture of yours. Perhaps you will be happy if you send me to an early grave."

"Mama, shall we summon the doctor to see to your palpitations and fluttering of the heart?" Edith asked.

"No, that will not be necessary. Edith, but can you not see what this man has done? He has imposed upon our dear girl, and taken advantage of her grief," she said and then turned to Margaret and said, "Mr. Thornton should not be making an offer of marriage to you when your dear Papa is barely cold in the ground. At least, he did not propose whilst your parents were still alive. He had enough sense of his place in society to know that they would never have consented to have a tradesman for a son," Joanna said.

"On the contrary, my parents had a lot of respect for the Thorntons. Mama asked Mrs. Thornton to take care of me after she was gone, and Mr. Thornton always brought fruits for her whenever he came to tea. He was also my father's favourite pupil, and they spent many evenings together at our house," Margaret said. She did not dare to mention that he had indeed proposed, and that her parents would have insisted that she accept him, had they known of the scandalous circumstances that surrounded that proposal.

"When we return from our tour of the Mediterranean, you will be free to re-enter society. If your love endures the separation, then it would have been worth it. I fear that you do not know your mind," Joanna said.

"But Aunt, I do know what I'm doing, and I know that I love Mr. Thornton," Margaret said.

"Mama, Margaret does know her mind," Edith interjected. "Remember when she decided to stop visiting the Dowager Lady Ashcroft because her idle son took a liking to her….."

Joanna said, "George Ashcroft has green teeth and and no woman with half a brain could abide that toad. But our Henry, he is a good man, and he loves you, Margaret. He will make you very happy. He will make a nice husband, and he has excellent prospects," she said. "Edith, please say something," she begged for support.

"But Mama, Margaret does not love Henry," Edith said.

"Henry is a very good man, but ….." Margaret admitted.

"But you were almost inseparable during Edith's wedding. If you give him a chance, perhaps, you may get to love him. Do you not wonder what kind of living a wife can expect from a man in trade?" Joanna asked.

"I should imagine that it would be the same as he would give to his mother and sister, and I will be honoured to be his wife," Margaret said firmly.

"But will he respect you? Will this man respect our family?" Joanna asked. "Dearest, he knows about your brother, and he despises the association. He will not wish for you to associate with poor Frederick after you are married. He told me so himself. Can you live with that?"

Margaret fell silent and slumped back in her seat. "It is not what you think," she said.

Aunt Shaw looked puzzled. "Is he blackmailing you then? What are you not telling me?"

"Margaret said. "…. I think I better explain, and this is going to take some time."

"I am listening," Joanna said. Edith clasped Margaret's hand in hers. Aunt Shaw's eyes widened in horror as Margaret relayed the account of Fred's visit.

"Whatever possessed your mother to summon Frederick to England? What if someone had recognised him?" Joanna said.

"Well, someone from Helstone did recognise him and there was an altercation at the station. Fred escaped, but the man who made the trouble later died in the Infirmary, and the police came to question me as a witness to the scuffle. Surely, I could not give him up, as that would have meant that he could be captured and definitely hanged. Mr. Thornton was the magistrate assigned to the case. He stopped the inquiry into the case, and saved my brother, and protected me from an inquiry that would have decidedly destroyed my reputation. So you see, Aunt, I owe him a great deal."

"We have to keep this to ourselves. Who else knows about this?" Joanna asked.

"Mrs. Thornton and Henry know everything. I never told my parents or Mr. Bell," Margaret replied.

"If what you say is true, we all owe him a great deal," Joanna said.

"I couldn't agree more. You see, Mama, Mr. Thornton will make a fine husband for our Margaret," Edith declared and clasped her hands together in delight. "We can have another wedding and….."

"I caution that you should not feel under any obligation to accept him just because of this service that he has rendered to you. The marriage institution is not to be entered into in haste, and you should not be perpetually indebted to your husband," Joanna said.

"No, I accepted him because I love him," Margaret said. "I do not deserve him, yet he...he…."

"…worships the ground you walk on," Edith finished for her.

"I think he will look quite handsome if he smiled more," Aunt Shaw said.

"Do I have your blessing then?" Margaret asked smiling.

"Well, he has to yet convince me that he can take care of you, Come, let us not keep Mr. Thornton waiting for my reply," Aunt Shaw replied instead.

All three ladies left the study to join the others in the Drawing Room.


	16. Chapter 16- Persuading Mrs Shaw -Part 2

Chapter Sixteen – Persuading Mrs. Shaw- Part Two

* * *

Thornton could not stop grinning from the moment Mrs. Shaw came in to the Drawing Room and welcomed him into the family.

"Margaret tells me of the service that you rendered to my sister's family, and we are truly grateful," Mrs. Shaw had said to him. She did not exactly say she had consented, but he was inclined to presume that she had given her blessing. He did not wish to clarify matters, lest he tempt fate. Margaret came in and took a seat between Thornton and his mother on the sofa, and Edith sat next to Aunt Shaw. The Captain and Lennox remained at their game and did not seem interested to join in any discussions.

Edith soon began in earnest to make plans for Margaret's trousseau. She rang the bell and sent the maid to fetch five fashion catalogues to the Drawing Room at once. She then laid open all five catalogues on the oval table and pulled Margaret up from her seat to join her to leaf through the sketches of the latest fashions from Paris. "Oh Margaret dearest, there is so much to do," she exclaimed. "Peonies and amarylis will be in full bloom in late Spring. Side-lace ivory boots are in vogue. And your hair…oh Margaret. Remind me, I must send a message to Madame Julienne to order the Honiton lace for the veil, and _broderie_ _anglais_ for the chemisette….."

Thornton saw his mother also watching Edith in amazement as she skipped from one topic to another at a dizzying pace. They caught each other's eye and they shared a secret smile as to a recalled memory. "Fanny…" they said in unison.

Poor Margaret could not get a word in edgeways, and was visibly frustrated. The moment that Edith paused to inspect the design of the flounced lace collar on a dress pattern in better light, Margaret swiftly reminded her, "you do know that I can only wear black after the wedding?"

"Well…..Yes…..But….." Edith protested.

"No, Edith, burgundy is not black, nor is navy blue," she said. "And I do not need three new coats." She left Edith at the table and plumped herself back down on the sofa between Hannah and Thornton, yet Edith did not seem to notice her absence whilst she continued selecting bows and ribbons for bonnets and purses.

"Has a date been set?" Hannah asked puzzled, and certain that she may have lost some time when she heard Edith begin to select the calligraphy that best suited the floral patterns on her preferred invitation cards.

Joanna stepped in, "six months should be considered a decent interval for propriety's sake."

"Mama is right," Edith said. "We could have the engagement soiree in April, and yellow narcissus will be in bloom, and we can have the wedding ball just after the Season and whilst everyone is still in town."

"Six months? I will not leave her here for even three months," Thornton declared to Mrs. Shaw. "And I am not leaving here without you," he said firmly to Margaret and moved closer to her.

"Nor does she leave this house unmarried, sir. You leave London in two days time, so you will have to return to marry her," Joanna said.

"Mr. Thornton is a prominent man and magistrate, so it is befitting that he has a grand wedding, in Milton, in front of his fellow masters and workers. All I desire is for a simple ceremony, with only my family in attendance. Out of respect for my parents, I should not be having a ball or even dancing to a schottische," Margaret said.

"We can have a simple ceremony in Milton. All I want is to be married to you," Thornton said.

"And where will you have her stay until the wedding? She cannot remain alone and unchaperoned in the house at Crampton. Surely you know that," Joanna replied to Thornton

"But I will not be alone, Aunt. Dixon will be with me, and if Mrs. Thornton would have me, I could stay at Marlborough Mills till the wedding, and she will ensure that propriety is observed," Margaret said.

Mrs. Thornton's head snapped up. She was surprised that the girl could wish to have her as an ally.

"Mrs. Thornton, what do you say to all this?" Mrs. Shaw asked. "My niece is headstrong."

"Aye, I agree, and so is my son. They are both strong-willed, but John will never dishonour Margaret, if that is what you fear. He is a gentleman, and he loves your niece dearly, and I give you my word to take very good care of her if you let her come back to Milton with us. She could stay with me at Marlborough Mills," Mrs. Thornton said.

Hannah said in a loud whisper into Margaret's ear, and leveled her eyes at John, "and you will be in Fanny's old room….next door to mine." Thornton did not mistake his mother's meaning. Hannah knew all the goings-on and coming-in in that house even from her bedchamber, and was bound to be even more vigilant after catching them kissing in the library. Hannah continued, "…And Margaret will be with me all the time, as she will have a lot to learn about running the household of which she is to become mistress."

"Surely I will be allowed to visit the Boucher children?" Margaret asked.

"Most certainly. You are engaged now, so one of the maids will go with you," Hannah replied to Margaret. "We do not keep footmen in Milton, you see," she then explained to Joanna.

Margaret looked disgruntled at this restriction, but Hannah's face showed that she would brook no argument on the matter. Out of the corner of her eye, Hannah saw that John errant hand had moved over Margaret's hand, encasing in, but partly obscured by her full skirts. She shook her head and gave a wry smile.

"On second thoughts," Hannah said, "Perhaps we should consider a short engagement, say two months." For she was certain that to chaperone these two would turn to be some arduous task.

"I will consent to two months, but on the condition that she gets married from this house, otherwise, people will think that something untoward must have happened to prompt such haste," Joanna said.

"Please, let us not decide such matters in haste," Edith said, worried as to how the timetable was hurriedly being negotiated downwards.

…

* * *

.

After dinner, the ladies withdrew to the Drawing Room and left the gentlemen in the Dining Room. Edith's voice could be heard now planning a wedding tour along Aegean Sea. Thornton decided to have an early night and left the Lennox brothers after sharing a few drinks. He planned to leave the house at dawn in order to get to the jewelers in Hatton Garden by nine, and return to the house by eleven.

Come rain, come shine, Margaret will wear his betrothal ring tomorrow.

…

* * *

.

"I need to step out for some air," Maxwell said, and rose from the Dining table. Henry followed and joined him on the balcony.

"Henry, I know that you are disappointed, but I think that it is all for the best," Maxwell said.

"How can you be so heartless? You know that I love her," Henry said.

"You will overcome it soon enough. At least, my Edith will not have to worry about her poor _Cousin_ Margaret anymore. She becomes Thornton's burden now," Maxwell replied.

"Now, you are being unkind. Margaret could hardly be described a burden to anyone. She is independent and articulate in her expressions," Henry said.

"She definitely has an opinion on matters that should be of no concern to her. Thornton seems to have a penchant for such women. Can you believe that he lets his own mother walk the factory floor to supervise the workers, and he also consults her on business matters? Mind you, she has the knowledge and insight to rival anyone, but such liberties should never be encouraged in women for the stability of the home and society," Maxwell said.

"Like you, I also oppose female suffrage, nevertheless Margaret is not frivolous like most ladies. I find her quite engaging," Henry said.

"The way you jump to her beck and call, just irks me to no end," Maxwell said. "She took advantage of your good nature, whilst she carried on a secret assignation with Thornton. All that bickering and improper holding of hands was an indication that there was more to their acquaintance than they had let on. Anyone could see through his ruse to escort her to London despite bringing his mother along as a smokescreen. The long and short of it is that she had you hoodwinked"

"I hoped that she would love me, rather than knew it to be so, but she did not deceive me," Henry said.

"Do you care then to explain to me how you came to harbor a certain Lieutenant Frederick Hale, and at great personal risk to your liberty and your career?" Maxwell asked.

Henry let out a deep sigh.

Maxwell continued, "And before you blurt out any denials, my dear wife confessed it all to me, and of the part you played in the matter. Dear Edith only recently discovered that her exiled cousin was alive and well, but that he had paid a visit to you in England to seek your help several months ago, and you had aided his escape," Maxwell said.

"Show some compassion. If you hear his story, you will concede he was not to be faulted," Henry said.

"Did you pause to consider the repercussions of your actions, that my loyalty to the Crown would have been questioned, if it were to be discovered that my own brother had harboured a fugitive?"

"I had no choice in the matter. Margaret was desperate, so she sent Frederick down to London to see if his name could be cleared. Remember that my job is to defend people," Henry said.

"In civil law, yes, he may be a crusader, but in martial law, he is a traitor," Maxwell replied.

"Anyway, he has suffered enough, and he is safe and in exile." Henry replied. "But you cannot fail to give assistance to someone that you love."

"Agreed, but there are other considerations. You should be more circumspect in the choice of a wife. Use your head, and not your heart. You cannot marry a penniless orphan," Maxwell said.

"She is not penniless. Not anymore," Henry replied. "She is an heiress, and a very rich one at that."

"That is impossible. Edith told me that her father was a poor clergyman," Maxwell said.

"Her godfather, Adam Bell has bequeathed a substantial estate in land, property, holdings and shares in Oxford and Milton to her. In addition, a lump sum of about fifteen thousand pounds was deposited into an account for her at the bank in Milton," Henry replied.

"Land?" Maxwell asked.

"Yes," Henry nodded.

"Property?"

"Yes"

"How much are we talking about here?" Maxwell asked.

"Richer than your Mrs. Edith Lennox and Mrs. Shaw," Henry replied.

"How come no one said anything about it?" Maxwell asked.

"That is because it happened just this morning. That was why we were delayed from leaving Oxford. Mr. Bell wanted me to draft up all the legal papers to transfer the entire estate to her," Henry replied.

"So, who else knows about this?" Maxwell asked.

"She was signing the papers just before Thornton interrupted us in the library. Perhaps she may have told him. The honest answer is that I do not know," Henry replied. "I don't even think that she realises how wealthy she has become. When I told her of the legacy, all she asked was if she could now afford to purchase some books, a chalkboard, and rent a space to teach poor children to read. Maxwell, with the legacy, she can afford to even build a schoolhouse, feed and clothe the children if she so desires."

"I see," Maxwell said. "So if she marries Thornton, all the money goes to him."

"I think the prospect of marriage to Margaret is now beginning to look more attractive," Henry chuckled. "Thornton can now join the ranks of England's landowners, without actively aspiring to do so."

"Perhaps not," Maxwell said.

"What do you have in mind?" Henry asked.

"Now, Henry, do not breathe a word of this to anyone," Maxwell said. "Am I clear?"

"Do you mean to do him harm?" Henry asked.

"Of course not. What do you take me for?" Maxwell replied. "I have an idea that could help your cause. Leave it to me. Just do exactly as I instruct you, and then make yourself scarce from this house, until I send for you," Maxwell said.

"I do not like the sound of this," Henry said. "I like to win fair and square."

"And so you shall. Just trust me," Maxwell said.


	17. Chapter 17 - In love and In War

Chapter Seventeen – All is fair in love and war

…

* * *

"I am so relieved that you are back to your amiable self this morning. Man, you can be such a boor whenever we disagree," Henry said.

"You should have known better than to have kept me in the dark about Frederick Hale," Maxwell said.

"The same way you reveal military secrets to me?" Henry queried. "Be reasonable. Well now that you know all the circumstances, surely you have to agree that we all had little choice in the matter."

"I would never have given him up either, but was it worth the risk to hide him in your own home?" Maxwell asked.

"I thought that perhaps if Margaret realised the sacrifice that I had made for her brother, she may begin to regard my suit in a more favourable light," Henry said.

"Well then, you just have to lure her back from Thornton," Maxwell said. "Therefore, I have enlisted my noble self to your cause, to rescue your fair maiden from the stern northerner, and you can thank me later. All is fair, they say, in love and war," Maxwell said.

"You always say that, yet you have never fought in a war," Henry quipped.

"True, but my regiment did keep the peace in the Basque and we have also quashed the odd skirmish here and there," Maxwell said.

"Nor have you ever had your heart broken. Edith consented at the first time of asking," Henry added. "Besides Thornton loves Margaret, and he will never give her up for a kingdom. If I was in his position, I would not either."

"Now, I have never known you to back down from a challenge," Maxwell said.

"The only problem here is that she loves him back, so I fail to see how you can be of any help," Henry said. "I will never love anyone as much as I love her, but the truth is that she has never chosen me."

"Therefore we can remind her of what an amiable person you could be. I cannot imagine that she would enjoy being with Thornton. That man is so severe, and so stern," Maxwell said.

"And yet, she consents to marry him," Henry said. "Anyway, here are the papers that you asked for. The contract is fully drafted out. It is watertight. It just requires signatures in those places inked with a blue 'X'. In all honesty, I still cannot see how you will get Thornton to agree to whatever scheme you may be hatching up in that head of yours."

"In all honesty, I do not expect Thornton to consent to the contract, either. It is just a precaution. Thornton has a weakness. He desperately wants to be accepted as a proper gentleman by our set. Therefore, we present him with the perfect quandary, and I am certain that he will choose pragmatism over sentiment."

"Now, you are being cryptic," Henry said.

"Never mind, you do not need to know the details. That way, you can always feign ignorance in good faith," Maxwell replied

"And how will you extricate yourself if things were to turn out badly?" Henry asked.

"I will not be faulted. Nobody knows that you have spoken with me, and I am not even supposed to know about her legacy. It is hers to tell anyway," Maxwell said.

"Whatever happens, promise me that you let it slip from your tongue. I should never have told you in the first place. People do not expect lawyers to betray their confidence, and whilst I could blame the brandy for loosening my tongue, the truth is that I let my private pain cloud my professional judgment," Henry said.

"Trust me Henry. If you keep out of the way, no one will ever lay any blame at your door either," Maxwell said. "Remain in your house, or take a trip to Dumbarton, whatever takes your fancy, and I will send for you after everything has gone according to plan, and Thornton is on his merry way back to Milton."

…

* * *

.

The next morning, Thornton got to the jewelers at Hatton Garden by nine, and was on this way back to Harley Street by eleven. He had not slept a wink, partly due to excitement, and partly due to fear, lest if he closed his eyes to sleep, he might awaken to discover that it had all been a dream.

He patted the betrothal ring in his breast pocket and smiled. He, John Thornton shall give this ring to Margaret Hale this afternoon, and she will wear it on her fourth finger on her left hand. His love will travel from the blood vein on that finger all the way up to her heart. In two months time, a second ring, a plain gold band will sit next to this ruby and diamond ring, and he will become her husband.

The footman opened the door as he approached the front steps of the Harley Street Residence. As he took off his coat, hat and gloves to hand them over, he heard voices from the Morning Room upstairs. The moment that he began to make his way up the stairs, a voice called out from the opposite direction. It was Mrs. Shaw. "Mr. Thornton, may I have a few moments of your time sir?" She turned and made her way back to her study, and expected Thornton to follow.

He followed.

"We missed you at breakfast. The staff said that you left at dawn. We need to discuss about Margaret's settlement. It should not take long," she said.

…

* * *

.

Thornton entered the study and looked around. He saw Maxwell Lennox seated at the desk with a set of papers. "Should Miss Hale not be present?" he asked.

"The Captain has brought some matters to my attention, and I would prefer to have this discussion in private. Margaret can join us afterwards to agree on the formalities," Joanna said.

Thornton took a seat across from them and Joanna poured tea for him, and they all settled down.

Joanna began, "Margaret turns twenty-one in six months time. Until then, I am her guardian, and in the absence of my nephew, the Captain is only man left in the family."

"And we are both appointed trustees of her estate," Maxwell added.

"Your engagement has come as a complete surprise to us, and you both seem keen to get married in two months time despite the fact that she should be in deep mourning. I concede that you have brightened her spirits, therefore I am inclined to let the wedding proceed, therefore that all the formalities now have to addressed. Once she becomes your wife, her entire estate will revert to you, and we, her family will have no longer have any say whatsoever on whatever happens to her money," Joanna said.

"Miss Hale is worth more me than a duchess' dowry, and I will marry her even if she did not have a bronze farthing to her name," Thornton said.

Joanna passed the set of legal documents across the table to Thornton to read.

"My solicitors drafted out that settlement when Margaret came out in Society two Seasons ago. At the time, her parents endowed the sum of three thousand pounds on her. It is very little, but it can afford her a decent living. Unfortunately, the settlement was not reviewed after her father left his parish in Helstone, and because they were in reduced circumstances when they lived in Milton, it is doubtful if they could have added to it. In any case, those figures will no longer be valid because the proceeds of the auction of their goods in Milton are yet to be accounted for," Mrs. Shaw said.

"My mother will assist Dixon with the auction, and ensure that Margaret is not cheated out of any proceeds," Thornton said.

Maxwell then took over the negotiations. "Thornton, you may recall from our conversations, that you told me that you desperately needed investors, and that your business could be in jeopardy?"

"It is the nature of business to have ebbs and flows," Thornton replied, slightly embarrassed.

"So, how much do you owe?" Maxwell asked, and leveled his eyes at Thornton's.

"And where is this going?" Thornton asked.

"Surely you know that we require a full disclosure of your financial affairs if our cousin is to marry you," Maxwell replied.

"We recently invested in some new equipment for the mill. With the exception of a loan for ten thousand pounds with the interest, all other machinery is paid for. Marlborough Mills is rich in assets to the tune of twenty-five thousand pounds," Thornton replied, also recalling Watson's reticence to disclose his affairs to a fellow mill master in order to marry Fanny.

"If you fail to secure the funds that you seek, how then do you propose to repay your banker?" Maxwell asked.

"We are still in production, and I could always sell the new machinery if the situation does not improve. Our payroll is safe for another five months, and I have savings for the upkeep my family and household," Thornton said.

"Have you considered other options if your creditors were to foreclose on your loans?" Maxwell asked.

"Options?" Thornton queried.

"Bankruptcy," Maxwell replied.

"Oh goodness no. It will never come to that," Thornton said, but not with as much confidence as he would have liked. He gave a silent thanks heavenwards that Margaret was not present to witness his humiliation.

"Thornton, please understand that we are thinking of the wellbeing of our dear cousin. Court bailiffs tend to be merciless when they levy distress. If you were to marry her before your situation was to be resolved, all of Cousin Margaret's estate will be seized to recover for your debts, not minding the fact that they were incurred prior to the marriage," Maxwell said.

"I will never let that happen,….." Thornton replied.

"But it is the law, and there is nothing that anyone can do about it," Maxwell said.

"But I have not finished. I will never let that happen because I will always bring home an income, either as a manager or as an overseer in some other mill in Milton. I assure you that I will pay my debts," Thornton said.

"But you will have to live on a reduced income, and then Margaret's settlement will become the main source of income for the upkeep of the family," Maxwell said.

"Margaret's money will never be at risk," Thornton said.

"Can you give us a guarantee?" Maxwell asked.

"You have my word…." Thornton said.

"The Captain is right. If Margaret ever found out that how dire your financial situation was, she will sacrifice everything in order to help you," Mrs. Shaw said.

"Yes ma'am. I have first hand experience of the extent that she would go to in order to protect anyone that she loved," Thornton replied, proud to be included in that category of the people Margaret loved, along with Frederick and the workers.

"You clearly understand our misgivings then," Joanna said.

"You could always file her settlement in the Court of the Chancery to protect it from me. I am willing to swear to an undertaking to forfeit any claims upon her estate," Thornton offered. In any case, his debts far exceeded the settlement figures.

"You are?" Maxwell blurted out. This was not what he expected. Affidavits such as the one that Thornton was referring to were used to discourage unsuitable fortune-seeking men, and Maxwell had planned to tender it as a last resort, in case Thornton failed to reconsider his engagement to Margaret. He did not expect Thornton to be the person to bring up the issue of such an undertaking. "You do realise that these affidavits are irrevocable?" he clarified.

"Most certainly. I will not want her to suffer on my account. If I sign it, will that set your mind at rest?" Thornton asked.

"Yes it will," Maxwell replied. He could not back down now, so he pointed to the sections of the contract that he had asked Henry to draw up.

Thornton gave a deep sigh. It seemed incongruous to him that the family would go to such an extent in order to protect a mere three thousand pounds, maybe four. He had settled twelve thousand pounds on Fanny, and he had not made such a fuss, but then, this kind of people look down on the likes of him. If Watson had been in the same situation when he came for Fanny, he probably would have made similar demands. Unfortunately, he did not participate in any of Watson's schemes, for if he had, he would have reaped handsome returns, and would not have had to sit through this humiliating interview before Margaret's family.

"Take your time. You may even wish to consult your mother before you sign it," Maxwell said with a barely concealed smirk.

"No, that will not be necessary," Thornton replied, chagrined. No grown up man should have to consult his own mother before making such a decision. This was a business negotiation, and he should be able to hold his own.

"I give you my word that I will revive my family's fortune, and I will return for Miss Hale," Thornton said firmly. Maxwell could sense palpable victory by observing this big man's demeanour. His voice trembled, his Darkshire accent became more pronounced, his shoulders slumped, and disappointment was etched all across his face. All of Maxwell's military instincts came to the fore. It was now time to go in for the kill.

"We are not demanding that you recover all your losses, Thornton. With the setback that you endured following the strikes in the summer; it will be impractical of us to insist upon it. We just want a firm assurance from you as a gentleman that that you can provide for her," Maxwell said.

"So, what conditions will be acceptable to you?" Thornton asked.

"We require all your debts to be cleared before the wedding," Maxwell said.

"In two months?" Thornton shouted. "But that is impossible."

"Thornton….Thornton, please do not take offence. We are only trying to help," Maxwell said.

"Have you considered a possibility of extending your engagement, for say six months to a year?" Joanna asked.

"And to what end will that be?" Thornton asked.

"To give you the chance to revive your business, without the added burden of a wife. I do not want my poor girl's reputation destroyed should you decide to break the engagement if you conclude that you may not be able to provide for her after all," Joanna said.

"I would rather give up my life's blood than see her ruined. You have my word that I will clear my debts and I will return for her. It is unlikely that that I could do so in two months, but that day will come," Thornton said and silently and fervently prayed for a miracle.

"Shall we shake hands on that then, from one gentleman to another?" Maxwell offered, pleased with himself that he had accurately assessed Thornton's nature.

Thornton signed the affidavit in triplicate and passed it back to Maxwell. "You may file it at the Chancery Court," he said. He dipped his head to Mrs. Shaw, "Thank you ma'am for your kindness." He then rose and extended his hand, "And thank you very much Captain, for your understanding." Maxwell received Thornton's hand and gave it a firm shake.

All of a sudden, Maxwell realised that he no longer wished to be in the same room as Thornton. Shame flooded him for what he had done, even though Thornton did not have an inkling that he had been led on. If anything, the man had probably seen him as an ally, and a fellow gentleman.

"Now shall we invite Margaret to join us?" Joanna asked.

"No, that will not be necessary," Thornton said. "May I beg you to remain silent on this matter for the time being? I do not wish to be false with Margaret, but I want her to hear the truth from my own lips and on my terms." They both agreed. "Our lips are sealed," they said.

* * *

Thornton left the room with a deep sense of foreboding. Something was not right, but he could not put his finger on it.

He made his way up the stairs towards the Morning Room with his insides churning. How could he tell Margaret that his mill was on the verge of failure, when he had only just realised that she loved him back? How could he now get married to her and taint her with his commonness and be reduced in status amongst her fellow fashionable southerners? How could he persuade her to leave the opulence and splendor of Harley Street to become the wife of a former mill master, now demoted to overseer, to endure a further fall in status in Milton? He had no doubt that he would revive his fortunes. He had done so before and he could do it again, but what kind of man would he be if he were to make Margaret to share in his downfall?

For the first time in his life, he finally understood her dilemma when she decided to keep the Fred Hale secret from him. She had wanted to tell him after her brother was safe in Spain, but he had refused to listen. His present situation did not have quite the same import as hers, but he knew that he had to conceal the true extent of his financial troubles from her to for her own good, he reasoned, even though in reality it was to spare his own blushes, until he could summon up the courage to come to her as who he truly was, a failed manufacturer, who loved her nonetheless.

Concealment is wrong, but it is the right thing to do…..for now.

….

* * *

.

Maxwell Lennox stared at the signed contract in front of him. He had succeeded in getting everything that he wanted, but somehow, that victory now felt hollow. The range of emotions that passed through Thornton's features evoked deep remorse in Maxwell. He knew he was so undeserving of Thornton's trust and gratitude, knowing what he had done, even if no one else did.

He now found himself in a right pickle, because despite his pricked conscience, he could not bear to disappoint his brother, after raising his hopes. At the same time he could not reveal what he knew about Mr. Bell's legacy without causing injury Henry's character and professional conduct.

After a full hour in contemplation, his mind was made up.

All may be fair in war, but all was not fair in love.

Thornton and Margaret deserve to know the truth. They deserve to know that any financial obstacles to their union no longer existed. Maxwell now has to convince his brother to return to Harley Street and deliver the message.

And to do so, poor Henry would have to break his own heart.

Poor Henry.


	18. Chapter 18 - More Precious than Rubies

Chapter Eighteen – More Precious than Rubies

…

* * *

Thornton found his mother seated in the Morning Room, all alone, embroidering a bunch of lilies that she had copied from one of Edith's pattern catalogues on a handkerchief. Baby Sholto lay asleep in a cradle by her feet. She looked up, smiled, relieved to now have some adult company.

He poured himself a glass of water and plumped down on the seat next to her.

"I heard voices earlier. Where has everyone gone, and how come you were left with the baby?" he asked.

"Edith gave the nursemaid the day off, and soon found herself at her wits end when the little one began to fuss, so Margaret took him from her to settle him down. She just left to get a rattle for him, and should return soon enough. Heaven knows where the mother is." she said.

"Margaret should be resting. She should not be playing nursemaid to her cousin," Thornton said

"It is good practice for her, and she should be prepared for it. You know that I have never condoned the use of wet nurses and nannies to do one's duty. Indeed, I let her know that her first and foremost duty as your wife will be to produce my first Thornton grandson by Christmas," Hannah replied.

"A grandson?...by Christmas? And how is she going to make sure of that?" Thornton asked, with a slight chuckle. A daughter will be just as welcome to him.

Hannah shifted uncomfortably, and said in low tone, "Er John..…..It is not all due to her. You also have a part to play in this matter. I know that you have never loved a woman, because your life has been busy with the mill…."

He almost choked on his drink. "Good Lord."

"Please, keep your voice down. I just wish your father were still here to tell you these things, but I will try my best to prepare you for any surprises…" she continued.

The last thing he needed was to have his mother explain the structure, form and function of the process, what goes where, and the like, in her blunt and candid manner. She had tried to explain the changes to his body when his voice broke at the age of fourteen, just after his father died, and it was an uncomfortable experience. At the time, they were poor, and he was responsible for his widowed mother and an infant sister, and he wanted to repay his father's debts. Nevertheless, he had remained chaste, partly because he was too occupied with his work, and partly because no woman had ignited any such passions in him, until Margaret came into his life. Now that the prospect of loving a woman seemed more real, such talk with his mother was destined to dampen any lustful desires in him permanently.

"Mother!…..Enough….I beg you." He stood up and walked to the door, muttering expletives beneath his breath. "Where on earth has Margaret gone to?"

"She had been at that window watching for you to return since breakfast. The butler said that you went into town very early in the morning," Hannah said.

"Yes I went to Hatton Garden, and trawled all the jewelers' stores in the district before I finally found what I was looking for." He brought out the ring to show her. "So what do you think?" he asked. "For my virtuous woman…"

"…..whose price is far above rubies," she completed. "It is truly beautiful, and like the passage goes, I believe that she will do you good, all the days of your life. Unfortunately, I will now have to fight for your attention, for you will soon forget about me, even in a matter of weeks."

"You are my beloved mother and I could not love you any less. This is different," he replied. "Besides, we may have to wait longer to wed. I had a meeting with Mrs. Shaw and Captain Lennox to discuss her dowry, and they wish to settle three thousand pounds on her."

"But were you expecting more? You do realise that she lives in this luxury at her aunt's benevolence, and it is she who will benefit from getting married to you," Hannah said.

"On the contrary, they were more concerned about my business and the problems with the finances. They demanded that I first put my house in order before I marry her," he said. "They wish to protect her settlement you see, in case I were to lose everything, and my creditors seize her money to repay my debts."

"I also lost all my settlement when your father speculated the lot," Hannah said. "But are things that bad with you?"

"No they are not, but I can understand their fears. I even offered to sign an undertaking to forfeit any claims on her money, in order to secure their blessing."

"Does that mean we have to delay our return to Milton in order for you to sign this undertaking with their solicitors?" Hannah asked.

"Oh no, we shall still leave on Monday. I signed the affidavit there and then. There is no use procrastinating. The Captain will file it at the Chancery sometime in the coming week. The important thing is that I proved to them that I was no fortune-hunter,"

"So, you signed an affidavit to forfeit three thousand pounds?" Hannah asked.

"Yes…no, well the actual sums will be confirmed once the proceeds of the auction are added," Thornton said.

"That is odd," Hannah said.

"My thoughts exactly, that they would make such a fuss over a mere three thousand pounds," he said.

"No, I find it odd that they had the affidavit to hand in the first place, as if they were expecting you to make that offer," Hannah said.

"I think the Captain may have made some enquiries about Marlborough Mills when he was considering investing in cotton, and probably found out something more than I had let on. Let us not forget that I am a stranger to them, and they only have Mr. Bell's recommendation to go on. They will not wish for her to be reduced to abject poverty. Nevertheless, it is not all bad. They promised to give me time to revive my fortunes and return for her, and I am eternally grateful for that."

"What will you do now?" Hannah said.

"I don't know if she will still have me. Unfortunately, I will have to let her know that she will never be mistress in Marlborough House. Mother, this is almost unbearable. I may lose her just after knowing that she would have me."

"She knows about your problems with the mill. I told her. She even suggested that she would find work to contribute to the family purse," Hannah said.

"I forbid it," Thornton said.

"That was precisely what I said," Hannah replied. "But Margaret needs to hear it from your lips."

"What do I need to hear?" Margaret asked as she came into the room, holding the rattle in one hand, and a woolen shawl draped over one shoulder.

"Miss Hale, Margaret…"he rose and went to meet her. "Dearest, I've missed you. I have been waiting here all day for you."

"And yet you chose to spend all morning in town on business," she said in a sharp tone and sidestepped him and went to Sholto's cradle to pick the sleeping baby up. The child woke up, startled and began to whimper, and Margaret began to rock him and soothe him. "Poor Sholto, now he has woken up, all grumpy."

Both Hannah and Thornton glanced at each other, with eyebrows raised. Neither of them dared to inform her that the child was sleeping peacefully before she picked him up.

As Thornton moved closer to her, she moved away.

Hannah rose, grabbed her embroidery basket and walked to the door. "I shall take my leave. It seems that the pair of you are about to have your first disagreement as a couple. I will close this door. We don't want to give the servants something to titter about in their quarters."

…

* * *

Margaret cradled Sholto to her chest in one arm and shook the rattle until he settled down.

"Margaret…Margaret…..I am so sorry. I meant to return earlier. It could not be helped. I leave the day after tomorrow, and there is nothing I desire more than to spend every single moment with you," he said, and took several steps towards her.

"I am not cross. I was just worried that perhaps something may have happened to you, that's all," she said.

"I wanted to escort you to breakfast, for the first time as my intended. I have not stopped thinking about you since last night. I am truly happy, Margaret," he said. By this time, he was at her side.

"And what did you think about me?" she asked.

"Everything. Everything about how I long to love and cherish you. Anyway, I like the way you dressed your hair," he said and leaned closer for a closer inspection. "And I would like to think that you did this for me. May I touch it?"

"Please don't. You will get me into trouble. Aunt will think that we have shamed ourselves," she said. "And I will never hear the last of it. And for the next two months, I will be given a daily lecture on the conduct expected of a gentle-born lady."

"In that case, may I ask a request, no two, of you?" He lowered himself to the ground on one knee and reached into his breast pocket and opened the velvet case holding the ruby and diamond ring. "Will you do the great honour of wearing this ring on your finger until I return to claim you completely as my very own?"

Margaret shifted to support Sholto properly in her right arm, and let Thornton take her left hand, and place the ring on her finger. He lowered his lips and kissed the ring, and then proceeded to kiss the whole hand, from the fingertips, to the palm and then to the wrist. He squeezed his eyes shut to stop tears from spilling out, and brought the hand to his chest and held it tight to his person for a few long moments. He finally rose to his full height and looked into her eyes. She was also fighting back her tears.

"And what is your second request?" she asked.

"Will you let me hold you?" he asked, and almost immediately pulled her with the child into his chest and wrapped his long arms around them. He was loathed to let go, so they remained in the silent embrace listening to one another's breathing.

Sholto became restless and began to whimper more loudly so they had to separate. She lowered him back into the cradle and sat down, and rocked the cradle to lull the child back to sleep. Thornton took the seat next to her. He longed for the day when they will sit like this next to their own children.

"John, why did that embrace feel like you were about to say goodbye?" she asked.

He looked at her. Her intuition astounded him. "I will return, Margaret. As God is my witness, I will return. I need to set my house in order, and then I will come back for you," he said.

"When?" she asked.

"I don't know. I wish I did, but I have to try my best to be worthy of you," he said.

"Please do not make mockery of my unworthiness. It is I who does not deserve you. Take me with you," she begged.

"No, Dearest. Milton is a harsh place to live in when one is poor, as you saw for yourself. My mill is in trouble, and I have to put all my efforts into salvaging whatever is left of it. I am not a gentleman like your cousins and your brother. I need to work to bring in an income. My business needs my attention, and my men and their families depend on my commitment for their livelihood."

"But I want to be with you. I want to support you in every way that I can," she said.

"Knowing that you love me is all the support that I need. Unfortunately, I am not able to reciprocate, and support you in your grief as I ought, as you deserve. Your family are available to help you with your pain," he said.

"You loved my father, even more than my aunt and Edith did. The Captain only met him at the wedding, so no one here will grieve for him more than you. Let us mourn together. I will be better comforted if I was with someone who will miss my father as much as I," she said.

"We have to wed before I can take you back with me, but my situation will not make it a prudent option. I do not want to rob you of the pain that you need to feel. Sooner or later, you will begin to resent me, and I cannot take that risk," Thornton said.

"So the mill is not the problem. You just don't want me because I ought to be in deep mourning," she said.

"The mill is the problem. It will rob me of valuable time that I should spend with you. Please Margaret, let me go with your blessing, and prepare a suitable place for you, and then return for you," Thornton said.

"And what shall I do whilst waiting for your return?" Margaret asked.

"I thought about that," he said. He then produced a small leather-bound notebook from his pocket and gave it to her. "Write all your thoughts into it every day. At the end of the week, tear out the pages and send it to me in the post. I have an identical one, and I will do the same. This way, we can remain in each other's lives," Thornton said.

"In the meantime, can you hold me again?" she asked.

"Of course," he replied.


	19. Chapter 19 - Regarding Henry

Chapter Nineteen – Regarding Henry

…

* * *

"What brings you here?" Lennox asked the Captain, "And how did you know where to find me?"

"I would have been here much earlier, but your housekeeper refused to disclose your whereabouts. After spending the whole day on a wild goose chase, I realised that that if your valet was still at your house, and then you must still be in town. I soon put two and two together and surmised that you would be hiding at Geoffrey Ryland's Rectory," Maxwell replied, "as usual."

Geoffrey Ryland had been Henry's closest friend and confidante since their teenage years at Eton College in Berkshire and later at Trinity College, Cambridge, where Ryland majored in Theology and Divinity, and Lennox majored in the Law.

"I was conflicted after you left yesterday morning, and I find that I could rely on Ryland to give me unbiased counsel whenever I needed to hear it," Henry said.

"Without further ado, I want you to come back with me to Harley Street," Maxwell said.

"Has Thornton left the house?" Henry asked.

"No, he leaves in the morning. He agreed to the settlement as expected, and he plans to return to Milton and revive his fortune, and then come back for her. Mother Shaw has given him an open invitation to visit once a month, until they marry, and he has agreed to it," Maxwell said.

"So much for separating them. I will never get the chance to court her if he keeps turning up like a bad penny," Henry replied.

"He was at pains to prove that he was not a mercenary. He signed the affidavit on his own volition," Maxwell said.

"Now I did not expect that he would sign it. So where do we stand?" Henry asked

"We can still file it at the Chancery to protect her inheritance should in case back luck continues to beset him," Maxwell replied.

"But….I sense a 'but' coming…" Henry said.

"…..But I think we should give him the opportunity to make that decision. He needs full disclosure on Mr. Bell's legacy, and you are the only one who knows about it," Maxwell replied. "I feel that Thornton's cautious nature will not make him vulnerable to deceptive investment schemes."

"So we are back to where we started. He will marry her, and I will be left all alone," Henry said.

"If she doesn't love you, you are alone anyway. Henry, she belongs with Thornton. Let her go and put a stop to this pain that you are inflicting on yourself. It will only make you more miserable," Maxwell said.

"Ryland, what do you say to this?" Henry asked. "You had always urged me to settle down, and you felt that Miss Hale seemed perfect for me."

"I have never met Miss Hale. I have only gone by what you told me about her, and deemed her perfect for you, but then we have always had similar tastes in women," Ryland said to Lennox, and then turned to Maxwell and said, "Mrs. Ryland- Sarah my wife, is also a clergyman's daughter, so I may not truly be objective."

"For the life of me, I will never know what she sees in Thornton. He is not her kind," Henry said.

"You cannot protect someone from making a mistake," Ryland replied. "If Miss Hale has consented to an engagement with this John Thornton, then you have to respect her wishes."

"I cannot honestly say that she will be making a mistake if she were to marry him. The affection seems to be mutual," Lennox admitted

"In that case, you have an unhappy alternative before you; you can either stand in their way, and have three miserable people, or support their quest, and be the only one," Ryland said.

"What you both want me to do is especially difficult. You want me to let them know that there are no more obstacles to them getting married, and at the same time, watch and suffer in silence for the next two months whilst she plans her wedding to Thornton," Lennox said.

"On my part, I do not want to have any awkwardness between the two of you in that house. Margaret is like a sister to Edith, and you are the only family that I have left. You have to convince Margaret know that you are very happy for her and Thornton," Maxwell said.

"It is the right thing to do, and I believe you know it," Ryland added.

"Even if it hurts me?" Henry asked.

"Even if it kills you," Maxwell replied.

"But it will not kill you. You have encountered this kind of disappointment in the past, and you have bounced back from it. One day, you will find someone who will return our love. If you want my support, I will even come with you to Harley Street," Ryland added.

"Will it not be preferable if she were to leave with Thornton tomorrow?" Lennox asked.

"You know that Mother Shaw will never consent that she returns to Milton, unmarried still," Maxwell replied

"Come to think of it, I believe that I may have the perfect solution for your predicament," Ryland said, and left to get his briefcase.

"What did he mean by what he just said? When did you ever encounter this kind of disappointment?" Maxwell asked as soon as Ryland was gone.

"Sarah broke our engagement after she was introduced to Ryland," Lennox said. "It was a secret engagement, but I never told him that she was the lady who broke my heart, even though I later stood with him at their wedding."

….

* * *

.

The Captain, Henry Lennox and Reverend Geoffrey Ryland arrived at the Harley Street residence in the late afternoon. They found Mother Shaw, Mrs. Thornton and Edith in the Drawing Room, and were directed to the library, where Thornton and Margaret were. Thornton was reading Richard Hale's Plato that Margaret gave him, and Margaret was writing a letter.

"Why is that letter taking so long?" Thornton asked.

"I wanted to let Dixon know about our engagement. I am not sure that I can afford to keep her, so Aunt Shaw has offered her a position here if she wants it," Margaret replied. "I am also giving some instructions on items that I want her to save from the auction. Your mother has offered to keep them in Marlborough Mills for the time being."

"And are there items that you would like to keep?"

"Yes, I would like to keep my mother's porcelain china tea set. I wondered if you would like to have any of Papa's books?" she asked.

"May I have them all? I will treasure them all, I promise you. I want to have a collection similar to what your aunt has here in Harley Street; the complete volumes of Homer, Plato, and Aristotle, all in one place. I believe I shall be spending a lot of my time in this library whenever I come to visit you," Thornton said.

"You will soon discover that no one else in this house reads them, so I am sure that Aunt will let you borrow any book you want," Margaret replied. She sealed the letter and placed it on the desk and leaned back in her chair.

"Dearest, can you join me here?" he asked. "I wish to hold you."

"And where will you have me sit? You are sitting in an armchair, and those ornate arms look uncomfortable. Besides, I will distract you, and you will not get much reading done," Margaret said.

"You may sit here," he said and patted on his lap, "I will be able to hold on to you and read my book at the same time."

"John, you shouldn't say such things. Someone might hear you," Margaret said.

A guttural cough from the direction of the doorway assured them that someone had indeed heard them, three people in fact, and that put an abrupt end to their sporting. The Captain, Henry Lennox and Geoffrey Ryland came in. Maxwell made the introductions to the red-faced couple.

"Good evening, Thornton, Margaret," Lennox said. "May I have a word with Miss Hale, in private?"

"No," Thornton said. "Whatever you wish to tell my fiancée has to be said in my presence."

"Whilst she is still Miss Hale, I am her solicitor, and I insist that this conversation has to be held in private," Lennox replied.

"And I will remember to change her solicitor when …."Thornton said.

"Thornton," Maxwell cut in, "It is very important that Henry speaks with Margaret. Ryland and I, on the other hand will like to speak with you."

Margaret and Lennox left for the adjoining room, and the Captain, Thornton and Ryland settled down to have their conversation.

…

* * *

.

"Margaret, we did not complete our meeting on Friday, when I brought some papers over for you to sign your hand," Lennox began.

"No we did not. You said that Mr. Bell wanted to leave some money to me, and I asked if I could afford to buy books to teach the children of mill workers to read…."Margaret replied.

"Have you spoken to anyone about it, your aunt, Edith, Thornton perhaps?"

"No. I was not clear on the particulars, and so much has happened since then. Besides, you left the house that night, and I completely forgot about it," she replied.

"You may have been told that Thornton's business is in serious trouble. He may well lose everything within the next six months," Lennox said.

"I have a general idea, but I did not realise that his situation was that bad," Margaret said.

"You can help him," Lennox said.

"How?"

"Mr. Bell bequeathed his entire fortune to you," Lennox said.

"I don't understand….."

Lennox brought out a sheet of paper and laid it on the table before them and continued, "Here is an inventory of his estate, and its worth. You own two properties in Liverpool and six in Milton, including Marlborough Mills and the house, the Empress Hotel, and a warehouse near the shopping district. You are, as I speak, one of the wealthiest people in Milton. You also have shares, in the railroad and some stocks in shipping."

"I own land and property?"

"Yes, and money as well. Mr. Bell deposited fifteen thousand pounds in Latimer's bank in Milton in an account for you, when he came to tell you of your father's passing. You are an heiress, Margaret," Lennox said. "And you can help Thornton by getting married to him. Your inheritance will help to revive his fortunes, and he will not have to wait much longer to marry you."

"Now I understand your meaning. All my money would revert to him once we get married, "Margaret said.

Lennox said, "Unfortunately, Thornton signed an undertaking forfeiting all his matrimonial acquisition rights in order to protect your settlement." He passed the document to Margaret. She glanced at it, but could not make sense of the many clauses and paragraphs of seemingly unintelligible words in English in it.

"But why would he do that? Does that mean that he will no longer want me because I now have money, and he will think that I wished to possess him?" Margaret asked.

"I suppose that he did it because he did not want to jeopardise your settlement should in case his business was to fail. And whilst that could be seen as a noble gesture on his part, you have to get him to withdraw the affidavit. He needs to have control over the money in order for the banks to extend credit to him."

"Mr. Thornton is not so flippant as to sign such a document without giving it serious consideration. How do I get him to change his mind?"

"You can tell him that you would have invested in him even if you were not going to be married to him. You can tell him that the money in your account will be sitting there earning very little interest, and that your financial managers have advised you that it will achieve better yields if you were to give the money to him, and it will save his mill and the workers and the families that depend on him," Henry replied. "Be firm, and speak with sincerity. It will show that you trust his judgment and financial prowess. I will teach you how to do it."

Margaret nodded as Henry reeled off the reasons, trying to commit them to memory so that she would speak much naturally when she tries to persuade Thornton. "You are a good friend Henry. I know that this is not easy for you, but I am grateful for your consideration. I truly hope you find someone worthy of you," Margaret said.

"Well, I am not holding my breath," Lennox gave a weak laugh. As a young man, when his peers sought to gallivant around town and meddle with females of ill repute, he had longed to be married and settled. Unfortunately for him, he was the plainest looking person in a family of good-looking people, and he had resorted to his brains to get himself noticed, but he soon found that only a handful of ladies of his acquaintance had the intelligence to comprehend his wit, few ladies that is, and that included Margaret Hale.

"This is excellent news, that Mr. Thornton and I can now get married in two months' time?" Margaret asked.

"I think it would be best if you marry him sooner rather than later. He needs your help now, and any further delay will make it more difficult for his finances to recover," Lennox said.

"It takes three weeks for the banns to be read, and then…..," Margaret said.

"We can make arrangements to hold the ceremony much earlier, tomorrow or even tonight," Henry said.

Margaret's jaw dropped and her eyes widened.

Henry continued, "You can get married by the grant of a special licence on compassionate grounds. You were recently bereaved, and you will not be required to attend a church to get married. My friend, Geoffrey Ryland is a vicar based at the Faculty Office, with a special dispensation from the Archbishop for that purpose. He can conduct the ceremony right here in your aunt's Parlour. You can even return to Milton with him on the afternoon train as Mrs. John Thornton."

"This is happening so fast. Aunt Shaw and Edith will never consent to it," Margaret said.

"We just have to persuade them. Mother Shaw would like to return to her tour, Maxwell rejoins his regiment in a fortnight, and Edith will have her hands full with the baby, and we could say that I have become too busy with my work to run errands and help you prepare for a long-drawn out wedding in two months time….something along those lines."

"Mrs. Thornton will want more notice. John is her only son, and she will prefer to have a splendid wedding as befitting his status," Margaret said.

"Mrs. Thornton will relent once she realises that an earlier wedding ceremony will help to salvage her son's business, and that she will no longer have to vacate Marlborough Mills. Besides, you had always said that you wanted a simple ceremony, to walk to church in your best gown under the shade of trees," Lennox replied.

"But my bags are not packed…."

"Oh, will you stop raising all these objections. Marry this man and return to Milton, please," Lennox almost shouted, striving to disguise the anguish in his voice. He took a deep breath, and stated with as much calmness as he could muster, "Once we review all that we discussed, and we can go out and let Thornton know the good news."

….


	20. Chapter 20 - A Special Licence

Chapter Twenty – A Special Licence

"Why is your brother taking so long with Miss Hale?" Thornton asked for the umpteenth time, staring at the interconnecting door between the library and the study, and struggling to concentrate on the words coming out of Maxwell's mouth.

"Be calm Thornton. Henry is trying to complete the duty placed upon him by Mr. Bell on Friday, which I believe you interrupted," Maxwell said.

"I know that he will try to convince her to break our engagement," Thornton bit out.

"On the contrary, Henry wishes to review the settlement and the undertaking that you signed. New information has come to light that could invalidate both contracts, and Margaret has to be made aware of this," Maxwell said.

"This is unbelievable! I have not been deceptive. Indeed, I disclosed the true nature of my finances to you. When I get back to Milton, I will instruct my bankers to send confirmation by express post. I assure you that I am a man of my word, and I do not intend to renege on that undertaking. I beg you, Captain, to not invalidate the contracts," Thornton said.

"I will hazard a guess that you are not a patient man Thornton. We are trying to find a way whereby you may get married sooner," Maxwell said.

"Please do not trifle with me. You know as well as I, that I am in no position to pay all my creditors. I had been given six months to a year to put my affairs in order, and to return to marry Miss Hale, and I agreed to your terms in good faith. I am disappointed that you will let your brother prevail upon you and demand that you truncate it to a few hours," Thornton replied.

"We thought that you would be pleased to be married by tomorrow morning or even tonight if circumstances permit," Maxwell said.

"How is that even possible?" Thornton asked.

"That will be my cue," Ryland said. "Did they mention to you that I am a vicar?"

"I beg your pardon…."Thornton said.

"The Reverend Geoffrey Ryland at your service. I work for the Archbishop of Canterbury at the Faculty office in Westminster. I approve special licences enabling couples to get married outside of ecclesiastical premises," Ryland said.

"What makes our circumstances so special as to warrant an officer of the Church to personally attend to us at home?" Thornton asked.

"I am doing this as a favour to Lennox. He is a most trusted friend and he stood with me at my wedding," Ryland replied. "He told me of your plight, that you wished to marry, but that the vagaries of trade had thrown an obstacle in your path."

"It could not be helped. We were beset by an unfortunate turn of events in the summer," Thornton said.

"Well then, you are a most fortunate man now. You have three gentlemen of the Clergy, the Law, and the Navy, at your disposal, to support you in your quest," Ryland said.

"And Lennox approved this?" he asked, still disbelieving.

"Yes," both the Captain and Rylands said in unison.

"We need declarations from you in order to approve the Licence. Irrespective of the venue, the wedding still remains a sacred event. You are required to declare any lawful impediment that could prevent this marriage. We do not have the time to read the banns in your parish in Milton, nor do you belong to the parish of St. Marylebone, therefore we will have to take you on trust. The Captain will stand in as her father, but you will need to find someone who can vouch for you," Ryland said.

"I do not know anyone in London. This is my just second trip to the city. I am well known in Milton and the County of Darkshire though. Can my mother vouch for me?" Thornton asked.

"No, it has to be a man. The rule of coverture state that women cannot sign these contracts, as it transfers land and property rights to you upon marriage. We will be unable to proceed with this ceremony if you cannot prove your eligibility," Ryland said.

"Please let us continue. I assure you that I will find someone to stand with me," Thornton said, and began to complete the forms. "It is not in my nature to agree on a deal without careful consideration, so I wonder, will this scheme of yours make me indebted to you?" he asked.

"Of course, Thornton. A pound of flesh and some blood," Maxwell said, elbowing Ryland in the ribs.

"And an arm and a leg, for good measure," Ryland added.

"What do you think, Ryland? Shall we have the left arm? You are right-handed aren't you, Thornton?" Maxwell said

"And the right leg. He will need it the left leg for balance," Ryland continued.

"In all seriousness, you owe it to us to take very good care of Margaret," Maxwell said.

"On my life, I swear, I will," Thornton said.

"Here they come…." Maxwell said, as the study door opened, and Lennox and Margaret return to the library.

….

Margaret joined Thornton on the sofa, and the Captain, Ryland, and Lennox moved to the other side of the room to give them some privacy.

Margaret delivered the speech that she had rehearsed with confidence and sincerity - the legacy and why it would be of benefit to Thornton, the reasons to cancel the affidavit, the various schemes for improving the welfare of the workers, and why she believed in his methods, the lot.

Thornton remained in his seat stupefied.

"You are not happy, John?" Margaret asked. "If you don't want me to accept Mr. Bell's money…."

He leaned into her and stroked her cheeks against the back of his knuckles." Margaret, can you repeat everything that you just said now?"

She nodded, "Yes, John, I want you to know that you have secured an investor who firmly supports all your endeavours. You can have the funds to pay the bank loan and you can have Marlborough Mills running again at full capacity again. I'd hoped that you would be pleased."

"And you will be coming home with me, as my wife?"

"Yes, if you want me to. I will pack my bags tonight and return to Milton with you and Mrs. Thornton," she replied.

"I hope you know that I proposed to you because I loved you, and not because of your inheritance," Thornton said

"I am aware of that, John," Margaret said, "And I consented to marry you because I loved you, and not because I wished to possess you."

"You repeat my own words back to me."

"Yes, because they are true," Margaret replied. "They were true when you said them, and they are true now."

"And you still wish to marry me, even though you can now have any gentleman as you please?" Thornton asked her again.

"John, I consider it a great honour that you have chosen me over all these fine ladies that were vying for your love," Margaret said.

"Well, you did press your campaign for my attention in a convincing fashion, my dearest. You may recall that none of those ladies took a rock on the head for me," John said to her, grinning mischievously. "Even though you vehemently denied any attachment to me afterwards."

Forgive me for my cruel words to you on that day, but never doubt that I love you now," Margaret said.

"As long as you forgive me for doubting you in the matter of your brother. When we left Milton, I thought I was coming here to say goodbye to you. I can hardly believe all that has changed in the last three days. I keep thinking that I will wake up and find out that it had all been a dream," Thornton said, and rose to signal to the Reverend that they were ready.

"Now that we are agreed, I would ask Miss Hale to complete this application form and sign her hand to show that she consents to the marriage. Once we get the affidavit sworn, I will complete the licence, and we can proceed," Ryland said.

….

Whilst Margaret began to complete the form, Thornton turned round and saw Lennox standing at the other end of the room, looking out of the window. He walked over and stood next to him.

"Why are you helping us?" he asked.

Lennox turned his head to look at Thornton. "I beg your pardon?"

"Margaret's eloquent speech reminded me of barristers who come before my bench. Those were your words," Thornton said.

"But they were her sentiments," Lennox countered, and returned to his former posture, facing the window. "I only helped her to articulate them in a logical fashion."

"So I ask again, why are you helping us? I thought you hated me," Thornton said.

"I don't hate you, Thornton. I envy you. You make her happy. I could never compete with that," Lennox replied. "Besides, I was merely doing my job. That settlement had to be reviewed, thereby invalidating your undertaking."

"The settlement is still imperfect. Margaret is my equal, and I want to have her name on all the title deeds after we are married" Thornton said.

"That will be complicated. The law does not permit married ladies to own property, but there are ways around it. You can instruct your family solicitor to insert a clause in the settlement contract, which allows for it to be reviewed if a future Parliament decides in favour of women. It may never happen, but if we all live to see such a day, you will not be hampered by the stipulations of the present law. Your solicitor can….."Lennox began.

"But that will be you, Lennox," Thornton said. "I presume that you are happy to take on our custom."

"But I thought…..Yes of course, I am happy to remain your solicitor. Believe me, Thornton, you have nothing to fear from me. In fact, I was going to write to Mr. Latimer to let him know that the account was to be assigned to your solicitors, but it would seem that the novation will no longer be necessary," Lennox said.

"You may still have to come to Milton to deliver the papers to establish their veracity. I think Latimer will be skeptical as to how my fortunes have changed all of a sudden," Thornton said.

"I was under the impression that Latimer was your friend when I was introduced to him among your party at the Exhibition, alongside Miss Latimer and Miss Thornton," Lennox said.

"Latimer had suggested to us masters to attend the Exhibition in order to secure investors, so we all came to London. Miss Latimer had just graduated from a finishing school in Switzerland, and was firm friends with my sister, Fanny. By the way, my sister Miss Fanny Thornton is Mrs. Watson now. She got married to one of the masters in our party. She was meant to escort us last Wednesday, but my mother came instead.

"And is Miss Latimer married or attached?" Lennox asked.

"No. Not to my knowledge," Thornton replied.

The paperwork was soon completed and Ryland, Maxwell and Margaret rose up from the desk and began to move towards Lennox and Thornton. "It is time to go and meet the ladies and let them know your good news," Maxwell said and beckoned to Thornton.

"One more thing…." Thornton said, "I have been reliably informed that you have experience in these matters, and I know it is at short notice, but will you stand with me, as groomsman?"

"Yes of course." Lennox replied. "On one condition…..that you recommend me to Latimer. I should very much like to be better acquainted with Miss Latimer."

"You have a deal," Thornton smiled, and shook Lennox's hand.


	21. Chapter 21- Coming Home with Me

Chapter Twenty-One – Coming Home with Me

…

* * *

.

The grandfather's clock in the hallway chimed six times. "Dinner would be ready in half an hour. I wonder what is taking the Captain and Henry so long. They left with the Reverend Ryland for the library to see Margaret and Mr. Thornton ages ago," Joanna said.

Edith cast a furtive glance at Hannah. They were both thinking the same thing, hoping that the couple had not been caught in a compromising position as Edith and Hannah had found them two days ago in that same library.

Instead, Joanna continued to fret about their whereabouts. Her mother clearly needed a distraction, so Edith decided to change the topic.

"Mamma, I think we should have the wedding in September. Margaret will be in half-mourning for Aunt and Uncle Hale, and you will be back from your summer tour," she said.

"We have already discussed this, and it will be due to Mr. Thornton. He is a very busy man and he has agreed to return for Margaret when his business allows it," Joanna said, sipping her tea and nibbling on a biscuit, almost numb with boredom with the book she was reading, after having abandoned the waltz that she was practicing on the pianoforte.

Hannah listened on in silence and prayed fervently that John's fortunes would revive, for otherwise there will not even be a wedding. Nevertheless, she could not help but admire Edith's optimism, for it gave her hope that things will turn out fine eventually. She put on the finishing stiches on the embroidery that she had been working on since she came to Harley Street, and was particularly pleased with the outcome. It should make a beautiful applique on the blanket for Fanny's baby that was due to be born in the Spring.

"At the very least, I think we should make an announcement about the engagement in the newspapers, and have the party in April," Edith continued. "The Admiral's daughter held a masquerade ball in the Primrose Rooms at Somerset House two Seasons ago, and I feel it is best to secure the bookings now."

"Dearest, it will be foolish to announce an engagement for we do not know if and when the wedding will hold. Besides, Margaret will never consent to those elaborate plans of yours, so please do not go booking any Halls and Rooms for balls or soirees," Joanna said.

"Margaret will not need to consent to my plans. She will have to abide by them if I make the payments for the ceremony. Besides, she cannot venture out shopping at this time, so I will be free to select the best styles without the restrictions of her plain tastes," Edith replied. "Mrs. Thornton, what do you think of the Honiton lace for her veil?" she asked, holding up a yard of the fabric for examination.

"Tis splendid," Mrs. Thornton replied nodding and without looking up from her work, and determined not to be roped in to an exercise in futility. It was obvious that both mother and daughter have been used to running roughshod over their penniless relative's desires.

…

* * *

.

Maxwell, Henry and the Reverend came in to Drawing Room, with Thornton and Margaret in tow, holding hands which attracted some pointed glares from the ladies. Margaret's maiden shyness overcame her courage and she wriggled her hand out of John's grip, which of course brought up his customary scowl.

Edith looked at her. "Well, Margaret, we were thinking that September will be a fine month for your wedding. Your favourite yellow roses and dahlias will be in bloom, and you will be out of dark colours by then….," she said. Margaret cut in, "there has been a change of plans. The Captain will explain everything."

They all took their seats to the curious stares of the three ladies, and Maxwell took a deep breath as he settled down. Even his military prowess could not prepare him for the trepidation he was feeling at the moment in attempting to persuade these three ladies of the expediency of an imminent wedding.

"It has just been brought to my notice that Cousin Margaret has become an heiress to a sizeable fortune," he started. "Mr. Bell, her godfather, bequeathed an estate to her and has ordered that the funds and deeds be transferred to her name with immediate effect."

Silence.

Awkward silence.

Joanna was the first to recover. "But she has not yet reached her majority."

"Yes," Maxwell replied. "She turns one and twenty in six months time, and Mr. Bell has appointed my brother to draw up the papers to appoint trustees until she gets married. However she will have access to the funds to do as she pleases. She therefore wishes to return to Milton and I have given her my consent."

"Return to Milton, to live on her own? Preposterous! I thought I made it clear that she does not leave this house unmarried," Joanna said.

"Yes you did Mother, and because of that, Margaret has agreed to get married to Thornton by special licence tonight. I have also given my consent to that proposal, and Reverend Ryland has kindly agreed to officiate the ceremony," Maxwell replied.

Silence.

Stunned silence.

Followed by shocked gasps.

Margaret fetched the smelling salts from the mantelpiece and took the seat next to Edith who had turned deathly pale. Lennox, Ryland and Thornton stood like sentry guards around Joanna, who looked like she was about to erupt and the Captain remained in his seat across the coffee table from her. To Hannah's annoyance, everyone, even Thornton had ignored her, because the other ladies' tantrums had attracted all the attention in the room. She saw this as a foreboding of life to come where her son will pay all his attention to his southern wife. Not that she needed any cajoling...but she could not help the twinge of jealousy that coursed through her veins.

"Are you all right, Mamma?" Maxwell asked Joanna after a while.

Joanna glared at him. "Captain, I am so disappointed that you could allow this to happen. You deny my poor niece the chance of a grand wedding with all our friends and acquaintances in attendance as if she were a penniless parlour maid. How could anyone even manage to get a special licence and a vicar ready to perform the service at short notice?"

"Thornton and Cousin Margaret were keen to get married as soon as possible," Maxwell replied and moved from his seat and took the one next to Joanna. He reached and encased one of her hands in his and began to pat it. "Dear Mamma," he said to his mother-in-law in a most indulgent tone, "do you not see that it will be improper to have a grand celebration so soon after Mr. Hale's passing? Besides, my Admiral wants me to back with the Regiment in less than a fortnight, before any banns could be completed, and there will be no one to give her away."

"But Henry can…." Joanna said.

"Henry has other important duties. He is due to stand with Thornton as his witness," Maxwell said.

"You are just like your brother. You seem to have the answers to any objections," Joanna said.

Maxwell went on, "It is for the best. You may now wish to resume your tour of the Italian Riviera with the Dowager Lady Ashcroft. Once I leave, Edith will have her hands full with Sholto, and Henry will have no time to spare to run errands for the wedding because he has to take care of the legal transfer of Mr. Bell's estate to Thornton. We have given this much thought, and we believe that it is right that the ceremony takes place tonight."

Visibly frustrated and looking for support, she turned to Hannah and asked, "Mrs. Thornton, what will the people in Milton say as to such a hurried wedding? What will they think, for I am certain that you will agree with me that this is no better than a scandalous elopement?"

All eyes turned to Hannah. From the corner of her eye, she could see Thornton's jaw tighten at Joanna's words, and even though she felt the same way as Joanna, hell will have to freeze over before she would openly agree with an outsider to any criticism of her son.

Hannah said, "Mrs. Shaw, this is neither scandalous nor an elopement. John and Margaret will be making their solemn vows before God and man, and in the presence of their respective and respectable families, here in the comfort of your beautiful home and not in some cold chapel far away in Gretna Green."

"So, you see, it will work out well for everyone," Maxwell said grinning. Thornton was very fortunate to have his mother as an ally, he thought to himself.

"In my opinion," Edith declared, "Margaret should get married in September when we will have the time to plan a proper ceremony befitting an heiress."

"In my opinion," Joanna countered, "Margaret should wait until the Season is over before making any decisions, more so now when she can have her choice of suitors."

"In my opinion," Hannah said, "Margaret should form her own opinion." Contrary to Hannah's former assessment, it would seem that Margaret's wealth made little difference to Edith and Joanna's attitudes towards her desires and preferences.

"Thank you ma'am," Margaret said. "Mrs. Thornton is right. I wish to marry Mr. Thornton tonight, and return home to Milton on the morning train tomorrow."

"Home?" Joanna exclaimed. "You call Milton home now?"

"I hope you will always receive me here in Harley Street, but my home is with Mr. Thornton now." Margaret replied.

"But why get married tonight? Why not tomorrow morning? No one gets married at dusk," Edith said.

"What difference will it make? Mr. Thornton has to get back to the mill, and we wish to visit Oxford on our way back, and let Mr. Bell know of our news, since he is the one to whom we should be grateful. There will be no time to sit down to an elaborate wedding breakfast. We will have a sumptuous dinner tonight, and that will be their celebration banquet," Margaret replied.

"I don't know how you can be so flippant about such an important event," Edith replied. "It is your wedding, and you do not even have a dress and trousseau. I am sure that even the folks in Milton will expect you to be fashionable, seeing you are from London. Anything less will be unseemly."

"I will wear my blue duchess satin gown, the one that I had made for your wedding. I have not worn it since that day, and it is the only dress that I have not dyed to black. Remember how the rhyme goes,…." _wear blue, and your love will be true_ ," Margaret said. "After the ceremony, I will revert to my mourning clothes, and you can help me get my trousseau ready in time for next Season," Margaret replied.

That concession seemed to pacify Edith a bit, until she thought up another matter. "What about your wedding tour?" Edith asked. "Surely, you must have one."

"The wedding tour can wait. Mr. Thornton cannot take any more time away from his mill at present. We can make plans when his business allows," Margaret replied. "First things first, I have to prepare for my wedding in two hours," she said and left the room and Edith followed hard on her heels.

Joanna scowled daggers at Thornton and turned back to Maxwell and said, "Captain, you gave given us less than two hours to get ready. What can be done is so short a time, I wonder?" she asked and rose from her seat. She met the butler by the door, who had come to announce that dinner was due to be served. "Carter, have you heard? The whole world is in uproar. Dinner will have to be delayed because the Captain wants us to prepare for a wedding tonight," she said and continued her complaints as she marched down the corridor and up the stairs.

…

* * *

Maxwell summoned Carter and whispered some words into his ear. The butler nodded vigorously and then left the room and shut the door behind him.

"Thornton," Maxwell said, "I have just given instructions for your bags to be transferred to Margaret's room after the ceremony," he added with a knowing smirk.

Thornton's jaw dropped. He could sense the amusement in the faces of Lennox and Ryland. His mother meanwhile sat, stony-faced, as if she did not know the implications of what had just been said. This was going to be his wedding night, and everyone there knew what was expected of him. He felt nervous and uncomfortable in tandem. He would have preferred to have the momentous event take place in his own territory and not in Harley Street, but it was too late to back down.

"Thank you," he said with a strained voice.

"Congratulations," Maxwell replied. "I take my leave, Thornton, Mrs. Thornton," he said and bowed to Hannah, and he and Ryland stepped out to the balcony for a smoke.

"Thornton, we reconvene in the parlour in an hour," Lennox glanced at his pocket watch, "and do not forget to give the ring to Maxwell's valet," Lennox added and joined his brother and friend on the balcony.

…

* * *

..

As soon as they were alone, Hannah asked her son. "What ring was he talking about?"

"Mr. Hale's ring, that is, the one that I brought back from Oxford," Thornton replied.

"The one that got stuck on your finger," she clarified.

"I wish to wear that ring, and it will be as if Mr. Hale was present at the wedding."

"But it is old and dull," Hannah said.

"The Captain's valet will get it cleaned with baking soda and vinegar, and when he is finished, it will be as shiny as the brass buttons on the Captain's uniforms," Thornton replied.

"I take it that you have a ring for her then?" Hannah asked.

"Certainly, Mother. I had purchased a gold band at Hatton Garden to go with the ruby ring that I gave her yesterday," he replied.

"And Mr. Lennox will be your groomsman. Are you friends with him now?" she asked.

Thornton shrugged, "We do not belong to St. Marylebone Parish, and without Lennox as witness, the special licence will not be validated, and the ceremony cannot hold. The only option will be to return to London after enquiries have been made in Milton, and it could take up to a month."

"I can understand why you will not want to leave Margaret behind with Lennox for a few weeks here in London, but I don't understand why he will agree to help you," Hannah said.

"It is a trade-off. He wishes to court Miss Latimer, and I have agreed to introduce him to Latimer," Thornton said.

"I see. So it is a matter of keeping your friends close, but your enemies closer… _.._ " Hannah said. "Everything has worked out for you. And Marlborough Mills now belongs to Margaret, and I am soon to lose my place?"

"You do realise that we would have lost the house in any case had she not consented to marry me," Thornton replied

"I'd hoped that I would have had some more time to adjust to all these changes before losing you to her," Hannah replied.

"You have not lost me. You have gained a daughter. Be happy for me, for us, Mother," he said.

"I am. I am very happy for you," she replied. "It is all so sudden. We do not even have rooms prepared for her at home. As mistress, she will need to have her own sitting room, dressing room and bedchamber."

"I do not care for such conventions. My wife will share my bedchamber," he replied.

Hannah gave a wry smile, and lowered her voice. "John, you will soon discover that there are some times that a lady will desire to have her privacy, and she will need the refuge of her own rooms."

"I know what you are trying to say," he replied.

"Do you?" she leveled her blue eyes on him.

He looked away and cleared his throat. "Mother, we have female workers in the mill, and we have to consider their monthly episodes whenever we decide on the workers' rotation, because it hampers their ability to bend down or carry out any work with some degree of exertion," he replied. Chastity and ignorance were not synonymous. He had even heard some of the other mill masters at the club refer to those dark petticoat days as justification for keeping a mistress. Such conduct had always galled him, and he held no respect for men of that ilk.

"In that case, since you claim to have an understanding of what it expected of you, I suppose it is my duty to let Margaret know the truth about what is about to happen to her tonight, and clear her head from any nonsense that Mrs. Shaw and Mrs. Lennox will be telling her," Hannah said as she rose to leave the room.

"Oh please, do not say a word to her. I beg you," he said, fearing the consequence his mother's bluntness will have on Margaret's maiden ears, and knowing full well that his pleas had fallen on deaf ears.

….

* * *

…..

"Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here…" Reverend Ryland said to the party standing before him, to witness the joining of John Thornton to Margaret Hale in Holy Matrimony, in the beautiful Drawing Room of No 97 Harley Street, London on the cool Sunday evening.

All except the bride was dressed in black. Margaret looked splendid in sky blue satin gown adorned with a royal blue satin band across the waist and lace trimmings to the flounces in her short sleeves. She wore her mother's string of pearls and Aunt Shaw lent her a diamond tiara along with Edith's tulle veil. Mrs. Thornton gave her the white lace collar that Mrs. Hale had admired to add to her ensemble.

The declarations and the vows were made and Henry passed the rings to Ryland to be exchanged. Registers were signed and Margaret and John became man and wife.

…..

* * *

John Thornton looked at his pocket watch. It was past midnight, and he had been married for four hours. They leave for Oxford and Milton in the morning, and they have to catch up on their sleep. His wife lay beside him and had performed admirably. Truth be told, he was sure she would think the same thing about his efforts. He snuggled up to her, and kissed her on the shoulder. "I'm so sorry dearest," he said.

"Are you disappointed, John?" she asked.

"Of course not, dearest. You were brave. I am very proud of you. It only hurts the first time, and it gets better with practice," he replied.

"Yes I know. I just want to do my duty right. I want to make you very happy," Margaret said.

"I am very happy. You made me the happiest man in the land when you consented to becoming my wife. I want you to look forward to our times together. We are man and wife, and I want you to enjoy this as much as I do," he replied.

"John, is it not wicked to delight in such things?"

"Between us, it is not wickedness. It is sacred, and it should be indulged as often as we see fit. Please do not pay attention to all that nonsense from my mother, your aunt and your cousin."

"What will your mother say if she finds me in your room every night?"

"It will be our room from now on. If you wish, you will have use of Fanny's old bedchamber until your room next door to mine becomes ready," Thornton replied.

"Thank you," she said.

He thought, or rather hoped that he could sense some disappointment in her tone. He was not the kind of man to demand his marital rights on his beloved, but he hoped that she would be willing to oblige him, often, and he needed her more than ever now. If he played his cards right, and improved and perfected his technique, she will loathe to be parted from him too. As a firm believer in the adage that " _practice makes perfect,"_ he reached for the hem of her nightgown and set out to prove it.

Mr. and Mrs. John Thornton emerged from their bedchamber the next morning, after much practice, they were near perfect and well pleased.

Sleep deprived, but well pleased nonetheless.

….


	22. Chapter 22 - Detour to Oxford

Chapter Twenty-Two – Detour to Oxford

…

* * *

.

Oxford, England.

The carriage turned south off Radcliffe Square into Catte Street and stopped by the churchyard of the University Church of St Mary the Virgin. Thornton, Margaret and Hannah emerged from the carriage and walked through the churchyard past the elaborate tombstones of renowned dons in Oxford's history and several mausoleums belonging to monks of past religious orders. They finally came to a stop at the earth-covered mound with a wooden makeshift cross that marked the final resting place of Richard Hale.

Margaret knelt down in the soft earth and placed her wedding bouquet of moth orchids and calla lilies on her father's grave. The thought that her father lay a few feet beneath the soil unable to respond to her made her lose her composure, and the tears began to flow in a steady stream down her cheeks. "I am so sorry Papa. It is all my fault," she said in a whisper as if she could disturb the occupants of the place. "If I had an inkling that this wretched place could have taken you from me, I should never have complained about Milton, then perhaps you would not have left it, and perhaps you may have still been with us."

Thornton looked around him. If anything, the air in Oxford was not polluted by smoke and grime of the Milton chimneys. It was fresh and crisp and pleasant. As far as he knew, Mr. Hale had begun the journey towards death's door the moment his beloved Maria died. It was just a matter of time, irrespective of the place, that he would have made the transition away from this world.

Thornton lowered himself to the ground and placed his arm around her shoulders. She immediately turned and clung tightly to him and he wrapped both arms around her middle, and pulled her into himself and let her cry into his chest.

Hannah frowned. Such public display of emotion and affection was improper, but she understood the need for it. Thankfully, they were in a secluded place and their privacy was not likely to be disturbed. In her ever-practical manner and began to pull out the tiny weeds that had begun to germinate on the borders of the grave. She will have to remind John to pay a special fee to the sexton to make sure that this grave will not be left unkempt like several others in the vicinity.

"Dearest, he is with your mother now. And you are with me," he said after her sobbing had subsided. "Your father needs to rest assured that everything will be fine." Margaret nodded and turned towards the grave, and patted down the soil, "do not worry about me, Papa. I will be all right. I am with John now, and he will take care of me."

They rose and stood at the feet to say a final word of prayer. Margaret said, "Lest I forget, Papa, John saw Frederick last month. He is fine too, and very happy. He will be a father soon. I hope that one day we will be able to visit him and meet his family too. Sleep well and Goodbye."

Hannah helped Margaret back to the carriage whilst Thornton went to the church office to see the sexton and place an order with the stonemasons to mark the grave with a cement tombstone overlaid in marble, with the inscription:

In loving memory

Reverend Richard Benjamin Hale.

Vicar of Helstone, Hampshire

Reunited with his beloved Maria on

The 27th day of December 1851

Gone from our lives but not from our hearts.

Loving father to Frederick and Margaret and Family.

 _Requiescat in Pace_

* * *

….

Visit to Mr. Bell

The butler came into the study where Mr. Bell was taking his tea and reading the daily newspaper.

"What is it, Wallace?" Mr. Bell said with discernible irritation in his voice.

"Em…. I beg your pardon sir, but there is a gentleman here to see you," Wallace replied.

"Who could be so ill-mannered as to call at such an hour?" Bell said. "I've barely finished my breakfast." Bell always said he hated receiving calls in the morning. His quip was that he rarely made any sense before eleven o'clock.

"It is Mr. Thornton of Milton. He was amongst the party from London that attended the funeral for Mr. Hale," the butler replied.

"Thornton is my tenant in Milton. What could he possibly want?" Bell said.

"I cannot tell, but he is here with two ladies also bearing the name Thornton, and whom I believe to be his mother and his wife," Wallace replied.

"Thornton is not married. The younger of the ladies must be his sister, Fanny Thornton, now Mrs. Watson," Bell said.

Wallace was skeptical as to this explanation. He was sure that they were introduced as Mr. and Mrs. John Thornton, and Mrs. Hannah Thornton, but he was not about to contradict his employer; not in his current mood, and most certainly not before noon.

"Sir," the butler said, "I think I should also let you know that they are in mourning attire. The young lady seemed quite upset and the older one happened to be comforting her. I have put them in the Morning Room, and I have offered them some tea."

Bell pondered what to make of this piece of news. He recalled that Watson had persuaded several investors to join in a speculation in which he (Watson) himself had invested and mortgaged all of his assets, and would face ruination if the scheme failed. If as Wallace claims, the family were in mourning attire, could the man have taken his own life like Thornton's father had done when his speculation failed? he wondered.

"Mr. Thornton insists that he has to meet with you. He is waiting outside the door," the butler said after a long silence from Bell.

"Very well then. Send him in," Bell said. "I sincerely hope that nothing dreadful has happened to Watson. Heaven knows that I have had enough bad news to serve a lifetime. Fires at the mill, workers strikes, riots, deaths, the lot."

Wallace turned round and went to the door to summon Thornton, who followed him back into the study.

"Good morning, sir," Thornton said, the look of nervousness all about him.

"Come in, come in," Bell set his cup down in the saucer and rose to his feet.

"I….we…I apologise for imposing upon you without prior invitation, but it is a matter of the utmost import that brings me here," Thornton continued, and remained by the door.

"Undoubtedly," Bell replied and gestured to a seat. Thornton came forward, shook hands and both men sat down. Bell continued, "It is not yet eleven o'clock. You would have had to leave Milton at the first light of dawn to get here so early."

"I have come from London. I missed my train on Friday. I have been in Harley Street with the Lennoxes and Mrs. Shaw all weekend. We are on our way back to Milton," he replied.

"With your mother and your sister?" Bell asked.

"No sir, my sister is in Milton. I have come with my mother and Miss Hale….Margaret Hale," his voice in a tentative tone.

Bell frowned and rose from his seat. "Margaret is here? Wallace tells me that she was in tears. Why is she here; and why is she upset?"

"We have just returned from the churchyard at St. Aldate. She was overcome with grief after seeing her father's grave."

Bell exhaled deeply and then sat down heavily on his seat. His head shot up as a thought came to him. "Wait, that still does not answer my question. Why would she leave London? Do you mean to tell me that those ladies will not have her?" Bell asked.

"No sir. It is not so. I don't know how to say this, but ….em…" he faltered.

"The cat got your tongue? Spit it out," Bell ordered, now looking anxious.

"I got married to Miss Hale last night. She is now my wife, sir," he said.

"Married?...Last night? ….With her consent?" Bell asked

Thornton nodded. "Yes sir."

"Thornton," Bell said, leaning forward in his seat with his hands clasped in his lap. "You are not one to act on impulse. Now be honest with me; how long has this been going on between the pair of you, for you never mentioned any of this to me three days ago?" Bell said.

"We got engaged on Friday evening after we got back from Oxford, and we got married last night by special licence," Thornton replied.

"You got married last night by special licence?" his repeated the words trying to make sense of what he was hearing. "Was that really necessary? Surely, you could have waited for the banns to be read," Bell said.

It was on the tip of Thornton's tongue to say no, he could not have waited, but he wisely kept his mouth shut.

Suddenly Mr. Bell's eyes widened in horror as a realization hit him. "Did you touch…..were you caught…?" he struggled to find the words.

"Oh no….NO sir," Thornton waved his hand frantically. "There was nothing untoward…no impropriety whatsoever in the matter. I did not compromise her virtue if that is what you are thinking. She gave her consent gladly and willingly, and her aunt and cousin gave their blessing."

"So why the haste then?" Bell asked casting a sidelong glance at Thornton.

"The Captain felt it was improper to plan any celebrations when the family should be in deep mourning, so he decided that it was best that the wedding took place at once, with as little fanfare as possible. He is due back with his Regiment in a fortnight, before the banns will be completed, and it will be impractical for him to return. We did consider having the wedding in Milton, but Mrs. Shaw was adamant that Margaret did not leave London unmarried," Thornton said.

"I see," Bell said clearly annoyed. "I suppose the Captain also felt it was his duty to give her away."

"The wedding service was held in the Drawing Room at Harley Street in front of five witnesses including my mother. The rector that performed the ceremony was a friend of Henry Lennox from Cambridge," Thornton replied.

"So why then have you come to see me?" Bell asked, with undisguised disappointment in his tone. "Surely, you don't need my consent."

"We will like to have your blessing. It is regrettable that you could not attend, for you have known Margaret all her life. I know that she would much prefer that you were present, but our plans had to be rushed. I have to admit that I was keen to get married to her, so I did not put up any objections that could delay the event. If you are irked, please place the blame squarely at my door. I can handle your displeasure, but Margaret is not to be faulted," Thornton said.

"I am not displeased with the match, although I would have loved to be there. I have to commend your resourcefulness in being able to purchase everything you needed at such short notice, and in London, which happens to be unfamiliar territory for you," Bell said, staring at the gleaming gold band on Thornton's finger, with one raised quizzical eyebrow.

Thornton noticed this and pointed to his finger and explained, "This is not new. It is Mr. Hale's wedding ring; the one that you to gave me last week, to give to Margaret. I consider it a great honour to wear it, and I felt that it symbolized his presence at the ceremony and his consent to our union. I had the Captain's valet clean and polish it."

Bell shrugged and smiled. "Well, son, you have my blessing. Congratulations. Surely you could have saved us all this trouble of coming to London by offering her your hand when I suggested this to you a fortnight ago."

"I did not know that her opinion of me had begun to change," Thornton replied.

"Yes, the pair of you always seemed to be at loggerheads. I always felt that the tension between you two was a tendresse camouflaged by antagonism. I even mentioned it to Hale…" Bell chuckled.

"And….?" Thornton asked prompting Bell to continue.

"….And what…?"

"….And what did Mr. Hale say in reply?" Thornton asked.

"…Oh…he was completely oblivious. Mind you, he quite favoured the idea of having you as a son. Margaret can be strong-willed, so I suppose he decided to let her figure things out for herself. You will not be the first gentleman to be turned down, and I for one am glad that she chose you over the "cleaver" Lennox," Bell said.

"Lennox's attentions have fortunately been steered in another direction. He no longer constitutes a threat to me. He even stood with me at the wedding. He is Margaret's lawyer, and he will be handling the coverture. He is due to come to Milton in a week's time to meet the bankers and the agents," Thornton replied.

"It will be interesting to see you handle any male attention around our Margaret, or shall I say _your_ Margaret," Bell said with a wink.

A boyish grin spread across Thornton's face. " _My Margaret"_ he thought.

"I believe that you will be very good for her. Your aversion to speculation also tells me that you will not be so profligate with my money," Bell said.

"I assure you that I did not know about her inheritance when I asked her to marry me. Truth be told, I would have renewed my offer if I knew that she would have me," Thornton said.

"I suppose she could say the same about you, for you did not wear your heart on your sleeve either. It was obvious to me that she cared for you, but I concluded that you were hampered by your principles. As a magistrate, it must have been a struggle to overlook her connections to a fugitive brother," Bell replied.

"But I never knew her brother…." Thornton said.

Bell said…"Did you not? But Henry Lennox told me of your encounter with Frederick in Le Havre last month. From what I hear, you gave our poor boy quite a scare. He wrote that you even threatened to expose him for his misdeeds."

"I can explain…" Thornton tried again.

Bell continued, "He could have lost his life had he been discovered. The Navy offer no clemency for mutiny. It is as fresh and vivid a crime as if it happened yesterday."

"Hale…..Dickenson….Frederick and I were talking at cross purposes, sir. At the time I did not know who he was….or rather, what he had done. I did not even know that Mr. Hale had a son, nor did I know about the mutiny. I saw him with Margaret late one night in a secluded part of the train station in Outwood and presumed that he was an acquaintance of hers," Thornton said.

"A lover you mean?"

"I'm afraid so. I thought they were on a lovers' tryst, but she chose not correct my misapprehension when I confronted her about her perceived indiscretion" Thornton said. "I only found out the truth on Friday when Lennox tried to persuade her not to leave for Spain to join him. I knew he had recently married a Spanish heiress, and I was concerned that she will discover his duplicity when she gets over there, and she will then have to return to England with her reputation in tatters."

"What about the man who was killed?" Bell asked.

"A ruffian known to them in Helstone tried to apprehend Dickenson in order to collect the bounty. There was a minor scuffle, and the man tumbled down the embankment. I believe he was drunk at the time. Dickenson got away safely but the man later died in the Infirmary. A witness also saw Margaret that night and reported this to the constable carrying out the investigation. When she was questioned, she denied being there lest the authorities go after her brother. I was the coroner assigned to the case. The doctor confirmed that the man had died of some internal complaint, wholly unrelated to his encounter at the station. I therefore decided that the inquest would not be necessary, as it would have subjected her to undesirable notoriety. The constable was a former worker at my mill before he joined the Police Force. He trusted my judgment, and agreed to close down the investigation," Thornton replied.

"Did Margaret know about of your intervention?" Bell asked.

"Yes she did. Even though her excursion to Outwood was well-intentioned but ill-advised, in such a situation, people are apt to misconstrue such actions in the most unforgiving way. I am ashamed to say that I was also harsh with her when she was not forthcoming with an explanation even though I knew in my heart that that she could not be unmaidenly," Thornton replied.

"You are good man, Thornton. Jealous, but good. Thank you for rescuing her from disaster," Bell said. "Did Hale know about this?"

"No, I did not wish to burden him with such matters so soon after losing his wife," he replied. I did implore my mother to seek her out to give her womanly counsel, but the visit did not turn out well."

"And how is Mrs. Thornton coping with this new addition to the family?"

"They have spent the last five days together and are better acquainted. I daresay they get along fine. No one can truly hate Margaret, so I know that my mother will soon come to love her very much," Thornton replied.

Bell said. "Now, do you have any idea of what you plan to do with the legacy? I recommend a nice trip to Europe for your wedding tour. You can visit Cadiz or go to see the stately homes and gardens in Italy or even sea-bathing in the Riviera,"

"I am not one for idleness," Thornton replied rolling his eyes up at the suggestions.

"Not idleness, but leisure. All work and no play, my boy," Bell said.

"I have more serious matters to consider as a husband. I have learnt from my father's mistakes, and my plan is to set up a trust fund for our children to safeguard their future. Someday, I hope that my sons will attend this university like their grandfather and yourself sir and never be disparaged as proper gentlemen. As Plato said, ' _the direction in which an education starts a man will determine his future life_ " Thornton said.

Bell gave a wry smile. "One of Hale's favourite quotes. It is my sincere belief that he would have loved you as a son. He always rated a university education above all else for the making of a man. Ironically, Frederick refused to attend Oxford despite all the cajoling and tears and tantrums from his parents. Hell bent on adventure, he joined the Royal Navy at only eighteen years of age, and shipped out even before anyone could stop him."

"At eighteen, I knew what I wanted to do with my life. I've never had to answer to anyone since I was fourteen. Personally, _I value my own independence so highly that I can fancy no degradation greater than that of having another man perpetually directing and advising and lecturing me, or even planning too closely in any way about my actions. He might be the wisest of men, or the most powerful-I should equally rebel and resent his interference_. With parents, it is different. I believe that fathers have to traverse that precarious tightrope between interference and independence in their children's lives," Thornton replied.

"Interference and independence," Bell said. "What a profound insight. You sound more and more like Hale. Come to think of it, did he ever tell you why he dissented?"

"No, we never discussed it. I knew it was not a lapse of faith because Higgins told me that Margaret and Mr. Hale once knelt down and prayed together with him even though he did not believe in God," Thornton replied.

" _The infidel, the churchwoman and the dissenter, and it did them no harm_ ," Bell laughed.

"So why did Mr. Hale leave the church?" Thornton asked.

"Eighteen years ago, Hale heard John Keble preach his assize sermon that started the Oxford Movement right here in the University Church of St. Mary the Virgin, just off Radcliffe Square. Keble and his fellows had tried to revive Roman Catholic spirituality in the Anglican Church and the University. That sermon made quite an impression on Hale, and he, along with other clergymen, began to introduce the Eucharist and some liturgical practices at his parish. Two years ago, the Church, in a bid to rein in the anarchists, demanded that all clergy swear allegiance to the State and use the Book of Common Prayer. Several of them, including Hale, dissented because they objected to the interference of the state in religious affairs," Bell said.

"So you reckon that I resemble Mr. Hale because I despise interference in my affairs?" Thornton asked.

"I think you could benefit from not being intractable. You have to be open to counsel from other people, be they your superior in status, your equal in wisdom, or your inferior in age. If you wish to increase production or expand your business, you will have to learn to deal with the landed gentry and aristocrats that you secretly despise. If you want your children will join their ranks, you will have to walk that tightrope of diplomacy across the social divide. Margaret has managed it, and you will have to do the same," Bell said.

"I may not be skilled in flattery but I think I can be accommodating. I was able to persuade the Captain and Mrs. Shaw to invest in my mill," Thornton replied. "Higgins, the Union leader is now working for me, and I do listen to his suggestions on how to relate to the workers. He suggested that we provide meals as it will improve their productivity and help us recover from the losses in the aftermath of the strike. Margaret wishes to set up a school for the children of the workers, and would desire for girls to have an education like their brothers."

"How altruistic. I can now see Margaret's influence on you. You now listen to your workers. I am sure that you will be very happy together" Bell said.

"Thank you. I believe we shall sir," Thornton smiled.

"Well, I think it is time that you introduce me to Mrs. John Thornton," Bell rose from his seat, and made a melodramatic gesture to Thornton to lead the way to the Morning Room.

* * *

 _Several sections of dialogue have been borrowed from Elizabeth Gaskell's North and South._


End file.
